


Habits Of The Heart

by zipplekink



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 61,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4680509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipplekink/pseuds/zipplekink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’ll be really good to you,” Liam whispers, sliding an arm under Zayn’s shoulder like he is a pillow. Zayn closes his eyes, remembering when Liam had said those same words to him while laying on his chest before they started dating. The same feeling rattles in his chest, the same uncertainty, the same need for his words to remain true.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“I know,” Zayn whispers, massaging his fingers through Liam’s hair. “You always have.”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Liam pushes up, brows furrowing together as he stares down at him, the humor in his face turning far more serious. “And I always will, Zayn.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HEY! So I'm posting it a little early just to give you guys something new :) It will be three chapters in length, and I'm posting two right now.
> 
> (Also don't hate me for this fic, okay? I promise a happy ending x)
> 
> [Title from Habits Of My Heart by Jaymes Young]

The loud patter of the rain against the house mutes the sound of Zayn’s footsteps against the creaky wooden floor as he makes his way down the hall. The distant sound of rumbling thunder is closer than it was a few minutes ago, and he knows in no time there will be soft cries sounding from the end of the hallway.

He drags a hand from his sleep messed hair before he pushes open the cracked door. His sleep schedule never went back to normal after his first son, Bashar had been born. Now he barely sleeps at night, restless and awake from the slightest noise.

But he sleeps heavy in the morning because Liam is the one that is awake before the sun pops out, ready to take his first Papa shift of the day.

The shot of lightning filling the outside sky shines through the window, revealing the trembling bundle on the bed in the far corner for only a moment before it disappears. Zayn tip toes across the carpet before he bends down next to the bed, so used to the layout of the room that he doesn't need the light to guide him.

Mahaad is completely covered by his blue and black Batman blanket. There is a hole big enough for his face to peek out, but the blanket wraps around his head and Zayn knows he is clutching onto it for dear life underneath. Another flash of light allows him to see that his round golden, brown eyes are wet and fearful and Zayn eases a hand underneath the blanket to scratch at the soft hair on the top of his head.

“You okay?” He whispers quietly as not to wake the older boy sleeping on the other side of the room. (Which is impossible most times, because that boy sleeps harder than he did when he was younger.)

Mahaad nods, but his bottom lip trembles and tears collect at his thick eyelashes and slip down his cheeks as another crackle of thunder sounds, another shot of light filling the room and Zayn can see the way he clenches his eyes shut.

“Why didn’t you come to Baba and Papa’s room?” Zayn says curiously, moving the blanket off of his little boy. He struggles against it at first, until he realizes that Zayn is reaching out to pull him into his arms.

“’Cause m’a big boy,” he mumbles, rubbing his fists to his eyes. “Bash says big boys don’t get scared.”

Zayn sighs, wrapping his arms around the thin boy and pulling him to his chest. He is much smaller than the others, limbs thin like his. Maira, his twin sister, is thicker, broader and taller like Liam’s side of the family.

“Bash is full of it,” he mumbles, standing up with him. He may be tiny, but he still is heavy and he clings onto Zayn’s bony shoulders as he stumbles some.

The boy only whimpers in response, nuzzling his face into Zayn’s neck and gripping onto him like he is terrified Zayn might change his mind and leave him alone in his bed.

“Come on, you can sleep with me,” he tells him, smoothing a hand across his back to calm the tremble in his limbs.

Mahaad nods his head slightly, pushing closer to him even though they are already stitched together. “Don’t tell Bash.”

Zayn doesn’t comment, only cradles him close to walk him out of the room. He knows if Bashar wasn’t such a heavy sleeper, he would have crawled into his little brother’s bed to comfort him, no matter how much he has been teasing his little siblings lately. Zayn was the same way when he was younger, teasing his sisters but there by their side whenever they so much as frowned.

The thunder comes closer, crackling loud above them and Mahaad flinches, clenching his fists around Zayn’s t-shirt, his fear overpowering the soft coos that Zayn hums out. His father used to tease him that he was giving into Mahaad's fears, but he remembers clearly how often Yaser used to let him cling to him whenever he was scared - or whenever, really.

They shuffle into the living room, past his bedroom door, where the glow of the television lights up their path. It warms his chest when he spots that familiar sleepy smile from the couch, his husband’s eyes practically closed as he fights off sleep.

Liam’s legs part when Zayn nears, and he pushes up from the edge of the couch with fingers sliding against their son’s back to take him from Zayn.

It has gotten harder to tangle on the couch as the boy has grown, but Zayn just snuggles closer into Liam’s side, wrapping his arm gently across their son’s back, sinking into the old, worn out cushions. He pulls his knees up some like a habit, leaving space on the end of the couch in case Maira or Bashar make their way out here in the middle of the night.

“I knew you would come out here,” Liam mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. “As not to wake me. Even if you hate this couch.”

Zayn chuckles softly, muffling it against Liam’s side. It is true. He has disliked this couch for forever. Even back in college, when the cushions were more intact than they are now and neither one of them could afford anything else. There are stains that Zayn has tried his hardest to remove, food and beer and baby stains, rips and tears from both the kids and Niall, who is practically a big kid himself. It is a gaudy pattern and the cushions practically swallow him whole whenever he sits on it.

But when Liam had suggested they get a new one, he couldn’t fathom it. It was this couch they had been sitting on when Liam and he had shared their first kiss, one night in the middle of their second year with Niall sound asleep on the floor and Bash tangled between his legs. With Liam’s fingers snaking against the back of his neck and a cheeky grin on his lips that brightened his always warm, brown eyes. Right before a nervous _‘you know I’ve been thinking about your lips lately and how they would feel against mine -’_

It was where he used to find Liam fast asleep, Bashar snuggled against his chest whenever he would come pick his son up after class or his shift at the bakery that went out of business a long time ago. Where Bashar first said the word _Papa_ –or screamed it really, in the middle of a tantrum because his Baba wouldn’t let him have another cookie and he knew his Papa would let him. Spoiled, always by Liam – who always loved him like he was his own.

And where Liam and Zayn sat when their surrogate first told them she was in fact pregnant with two healthy babies that _were_ Liam’s own. Over ten years of memories and as much as Zayn isn’t a fan of the manky couch, it has been with them through the start and growth of their family.

“It’s _okay_ ,” Zayn mutters. Sleep is already starting to come back to him, making his eyes heavy as he listens to the sounds of Mahaad’s soft whimpers.

“Shh,” Liam coos tiredly, scratching his fingers through the small curls at the top of Mahaad’s head.

Mahaad stretches, climbing up Liam’s chest to curl his arms around the back of Liam’s neck and muffle his whimpers against his skin like he did a moment ago with Zayn.

Zayn slides a palm up his back, easing out the tension that probably makes him grip too tightly to Liam. Liam would never fuss about it though, too used to the way Mahaad always needs to be comforted. He is afraid of a lot – most things it seems like sometimes, and it usually takes the boy a while to calm down.

“Bashar told him big boys don’t get scared,” Zayn whispers, smoothing a thumb across Mahaad’s wet cheek.

Liam flicks his eyes open wide, trying to tilt his head forward to look down at their youngest son but he tightens his grip around his Papa’s neck.

“Did Bash really say that, beta?”

“Yeah,” Mahaad says in a watery voice, nuzzling closer to Liam.

Liam drags his auxiliary hand down his face like he is trying to wipe away the sleep that clings to him. “Well, you know Papa is afraid of a lot of things.”

Mahaad pushes up, wiping a small hand under his cheek as he glances between Zayn and Liam for confirmation. “You are? But you the biggest boy I know.”

Zayn purses his lips as not to laugh, hiding his face back against Liam’s chest just in case a sound escapes through.

Liam huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, buddy. Don’t listen to Bash, okay? He is afraid of things too, and that's okay."

Mahaad gives him a look like he highly doubts this before he slumps back against Liam’s chest.

"Baba and I will keep you safe, bub."

The thunder cracks above them and the boy flinches every so often before he falls asleep, comforted by the rise and fall of Liam's chest and Zayn's fingers circling against his back.

++

Zayn wakes up in his bed the next morning, the scent of Liam’s cologne surrounding him and their comforter tangled around his ankles. The curtains are closed, but he can hear the patter of rain against the window pane, much softer than the night before.

He keeps his eyes closed, listening for the sound of his family over the sound of the rain but he can’t hear anything. He can’t even hear the sound of their cartoons from the living room, or Maira’s laughing, which always gets him out of bed even though he craves being hidden in the sheets until the afternoon hours. But he craves seeing the smile on her face that bunches up her cheeks just like her Papa's -

Zayn pushes up, eyeing the closed door before he untangles his legs from the comforter and climbs out of the bed. They never keep the door shut when they are asleep, because Liam has always been nervous that they won’t be able to hear the kids if they need to, and when Mahaad was little, he had learned how to climb out of his crib and would always end up in their room in the middle of the night.

In the living room, the television is on but a footie game plays instead of Cartoon Network like normally, and it is muted. The living room is empty and the clock on the wall reads 11:16, but the house is silent. Unusual, since the only time the house is ever quiet is when the kids are off or everyone is asleep.

Zayn looks around confused before he hears the sound of footsteps. Heavier – definitely not one of the kids but he isn’t alarmed as he feels soft fingers scrape against his side.

Liam hums when he slips an arm around Zayn from behind, sliding his hand over where Zayn’s scratches at his belly. His lips tickle the side of Zayn’s neck as his other hand comes to slide against his chest.

“Morning, love.”

Liam’s voice isn’t heavy with sleep, telling Zayn that he has been up for some time. Not that he is surprised, because Liam usually wakes around six in the morning. Zayn leans his head back, resting it on Liam’s shoulder as his lips move against the span of his neck.

Liam’s fingers slide lower, teasing the band of his briefs. “Been waiting for you to wake up, sleepy head.”

Zayn grins, reaching back to wrap an arm around the back of his husband’s head so he will keep up with the movement of his lips against his neck. “Fancy telling me where my kids are?”

His own voice is heavy with sleep, raspy and his accent thicker than it normally is. He smiles lazily at the way Liam’s lips push up into a smile before he mutters his response against Zayn’s skin.

“Spending the day with Niall.”

Zayn wants to groan, because that is never a good idea. They always come home buzzed off sugary sweets and the last time Niall took them for a day, Bashar had learned a word that had sent him into time out for a few minutes, but Bashar swore it was _hours_ -

But instead he moans, because Liam’s teeth dig into his skin as his fingers push under the band of his briefs.

“That's never good," Zayn sighs, sliding his hand up to tangle with the fingers of Liam's other hand against his chest.

"At least it gives us alone time," Liam chuckles, dragging his nails across the coarse hair underneath his belly button. "And Harry is with him too. Buffers Niall's bad influence, yeah?"

Zayn turns around so he can wrap his arms around Liam's shoulders. "Good, now I can get more sleep," he teases, adding a yawn for special effect. It makes him shiver, waking up his limbs and knocking away the sleep that hangs onto them.

Liam clenches his eyes shut, groaning before he closes the space between them to kiss away the grin on Zayn's lips.

It is a slow kiss, fitting the unusual calm in their home. Liam's hands spread against his back, playing with the material of his shirt and his sighs are just as soft as the sound of rain outside. His skin is warm, soft and the scent of his soap lingers to it. The same soap Liam has been using since they met, and probably longer knowing him, a man of habit -

Zayn flicks his tongue out, sliding across Liam's bottom lip and he groans low in his throat, fingers digging into Zayn’s back.

After they first met, Zayn used to be bothered by how often he would think about Liam's lips, imagining how soft they were, if they tasted like that strawberry flavored water he always drank throughout the day. If his scruff would tickle his skin, and if he were handsy and noisy like Zayn hoped he would be.

He kept stopping himself from finding out, too worried from the horror stories of single parents he had heard, about relationships with people who wanted to be prioritized more so than the child. About people who couldn’t comprehend _why_ a parent may want to put their child before anyone else and were irritated that they did.

But that had never been Liam. Liam had knocked on the door of his apartment and asked if Zayn needed help because Bashar had been crying all morning due to a fever that had been worrisomely high. It was the first time they really spoke, and Liam always seemed to understand that Bash and him were a package deal after that, coming over whenever Bash so much as cooed loud enough for him to hear, always offering to babysit and planning things for them to do so his son could go as well.

Zayn had still distanced himself, developing a habit of rubbing at his lips whenever he felt the urge to close the space between him and his cute neighbor with the kind eyes that always showed how much care his heart contained.

"Come on," Zayn mutters, sliding his hands down Liam's side to hold onto his hips and shuffle him backwards. "Back to bed then."

Liam grins, fingers pushing up the back of Zayn's shirt to tangle it off. "Not the couch? For old times sake?"

"Your office?" Zayn plays along, whispering the words against Liam's jaw. He hooks his thumbs under the band of Liam's joggers, pushing them past the round of his hips, groaning some when he realizes Liam is bare underneath them.

“Against the wall in the hallway?”

Liam places a hand on the small of Zayn's back, pressing his hips closer so Zayn whines at feel of Liam's cock against his own, his next suggestion of _on the back porch_ getting stuck in his throat.

"They will be gone awhile, we can fuck about every place you like," he chuckles, scraping his lips against Zayn's cheek.

"Bed," Zayn says roughly, pushing his joggers down farther so they slip past the swell of his bum. His clothes feel like they are irritating his skin now and he just needs them _off_.

It is a fumble from then on, down the hallway where their bedrooms are, with Liam’s back clunking against their wooden door when he trips out of his joggers, and Zayn’s arms snaking around him tighter to keep him from falling because even though Zayn has never been as strong as Liam, his muscle mass triples when Liam is in a line of danger.

Liam’s fingers slide against the back of his thighs once Zayn has stepped out of his briefs, leaving them stranded on the floor as he lifts him with Zayn’s legs snaking around his waist like a habit.

“Show off,” Zayn murmurs, tickling his fingers down Liam’s biceps, admiring the way they bulge. “Maybe you can fuck me against our wall, babe? So I can watch these arms of yours flex -”

Liam lets out a breathless chuckle, eyes widening some. “After the bed, babe. Wanna see you squirm all over the sheets -”

Liam rests him against the mattress, careful with his lips pressed to the sharp of his collarbone. He is always careful about not putting too much of his weight on him, but Zayn drags him closer like he is desperate for it. Desperate to be consumed completely by his husband -

He remembers the first time they slept together, after Zayn pulled Liam away from where his lips were wrapped around the tip of his cock because Liam never pushed him for more but it was all Zayn could think about. It had been eager and a bit rushed with Zayn’s chest pressed to that old couch and Liam’s stitched to his spine, but it had been perfect with Liam’s lips on the back of his neck and their fingers tangled above them. Liam had dicked into him so slowly that it drove him a bit mad, careful because it had been awhile since either of them had been with anyone else.

“Mm,” Liam groans, his palm folding over Zayn’s jaw to drag him closer for a kiss. There is strength underneath his fingertips that tease Zayn when they press roughly into his skin, but Liam is always careful. And if he isn’t, he rubs apologetic kisses over Zayn’s bruised skin with promises to be more careful even though Zayn swears he doesn’t mind. It arouses him really, seeing Liam controlling his strength enough to manhandle but never harm -

Sometimes he craves it rough - Liam using that strength against him or using his own to battle Liam’s. Liam can always tell what he needs, even if he hasn’t voiced it. Whether it is gentle kisses and fingers sliding against his skin, or teeth and bruises blossoming all over his body -

Zayn slides a hand down Liam’s spine, grazing his fingers over the curve of his bum as their hips work against each other in a slow rhythm. Arousal jolts down to rest in his lower belly every time he feels Liam’s cock press against his, hard and slick from precome, eliciting moans that vibrate against Zayn’s lips.

He arches forward when Liam pulls back, a desperation flooding through him that makes him _need_ his lips latched to his husband’s. Liam wraps a hand around the back of his head, holding him there as Zayn tickles his fingers down the curve of muscle covering Liam’s stomach, just to touch - tease.

“Lube babe,” Liam tells him as he tries to pull away but Zayn clings to him. “Unless you rather me lick you out, get you all wet and loose with me tongue -”

Zayn moans, eyes falling shut and Liam eases from his grip with a chuckle before he can recover from his words.

He rests back against the bed, dragging his fingers down his torso as he watches the way Liam's muscles dance under his skin as he moves. The flush running down his body and the way his cock curves towards his belly as he waddles over towards their dresser.

He is beautiful, overwhelmingly so. The thick of his arms and the strength of his large hands, the broad of his shoulders and the little dip at the bottom of his spine, above the small curve of his barely there bum. His thighs are toned, a paler color than his calves but Zayn likes how easy they mark up even with just a gentle press of his mouth against the soft skin on the inside of them.

The sharp of his jaw, matted with a coarse beard that tickles when they kiss. It is thicker than normal today, a little unruly just like the strands of curls that spring out from the top of his head, and Zayn anticipates how raw his skin will feel from the rub of Liam’s beard against his skin.

Zayn circles loose fingers around the tip of his cock as Liam walks back, bottle of lube in hand. His eyes darken when they flick to Zayn lazily stroking himself, his palm rubbing against the sticky head before slicking down the length and squeezing at the base to ease the tension building inside of him from the way Liam always looks at him.

Like it is their first time, every time - even after ten years of being together. There is an energy surrounding them and an overwhelmed look in Liam’s eyes that matches the feeling building in Zayn’s chest from the chance to touch Liam, be surrounded by Liam, feel Liam fill him up -

The only difference is there is no longer nerves surrounding them, like there was the first few times. Only comfort now and confidence in the fact that the flutter of his heart really does mean he is in love and not just blinded by his need for someone to treat him like they are in love with him too -

"Can I help?" Liam asks, raising a brow as he digs his knees on the edge of the bed, between where Zayn's legs are spread wide enough for him to fit between. He drops the bottle to smooth his palms up Zayn’s calves and spread his legs a bit more.

Zayn shrugs carelessly, teeth fucking down on his bottom lip to stop the grin that fights his lips to form. "Don't wanna watch or -"

Liam groans, climbing up Zayn’s torso to plant his hands on either side of Zayn's head. There is a pout on his lips that reminds Zayn of how impossibly _adorable_ Liam is -

"I do, but it's been so long since I could touch, babe."

Zayn chuckles, pulling his hand away from himself so he can feel Liam against him instead. "It's been like, two days jaan."

"Practically a lifetime ago," he jokes before slotting their lips together again.

It had been difficult after the twins were born, to get alone time because Liam’s company, Patient Paws, had started to kick off in a way that hadn’t been anticipated, which had him leaving early in the morning and getting home late at night. With two babies who required a lot of attention and _time_ , an older boy in and out of the hospital and then Zayn starting at the summer camp at Bash's school last summer, but they made it work -

They always make it work.

Liam slides a hand under his thigh, bracing himself with an elbow against the mattress as he pulls Zayn's hips up to arch against his own. His cock pulses against Zayn's skin where he grinds down, a slow movement of the hips that makes Zayn's nails bite into his shoulders.

His lips smooth against his collarbone, tongue tracing out the shapes of ink stained to his skin. He presses kisses to the three sets of initials under the left wing on his chest - _BM MM MM_ , humming quietly before he moves lower.

Sweat collects against his skin by the time Liam's lips have made their way to his navel, his fingers against the back of his thighs spreading and kneading in a way that makes Zayn moan desperately for Liam to _hurry it up,_ because his patience has never been quite as good as Liam’s.

He fumbles for the lube that lies hidden in the sheets beside him to chuck it at Liam, grinning when his husband huffs out a laugh before he nips at his hip gently in retaliation.

“Patience,” Liam says fondly, easing a palm up Zayn’s length. He drags the pad of his thumb against his slit, humming low in his throat. “Want you real wet for me,  babe.”

Zayn whimpers, stitching his hips against the mattress to not buck into Liam’s touch. It is torture the way his thumb rubs against the head teasingly, catching every drop of precome -

“Then get me wet,” Zayn challenges, grinding up against Liam’s palm.

Liam’s tongue flicks out against his bottom lip, which is a dark shade of red that is almost as pretty as the pink that coats his cheeks - both which were caused by Zayn and the feeling in his chest because of it is undefinable -

He circles his fingers around Zayn’s prick, slicking precome down his length before he ducks his head forward.

Zayn groans, reaching up to gentle fingers against the short hair on the sides of Liam’s head as he replaces his thumb with his tongue, rubbing at the underside of the head. It is obscene really, watching the flushed tip of his cock press against Liam’s slick lips, and the way Liam’s eyelashes flutter shut when he tastes the precome pushed out onto his tongue.

“Come on,” Zayn urges, arching his hips some so Liam gets the hint. “Lube, babe.”

“Needy,” Liam jokes before wrapping his lips around him with a hand on Zayn’s hip to urge him to arch forward and off of the bed again.

“Want me dick in you that bad babe?”

Zayn isn’t sure what he wants more really, to come from the wet heat of Liam’s mouth, settled down his throat or from Liam nestled inside of him, his heavy weight pressing him into the mattress.

“Rather you nut off inside me instead of from humpin’ down on the sheets ‘coz you like the taste of my cock so much -”

Liam groans, the sound vibrating against him before he pulls off, tongue flicking out to catch the spit that clings to Zayn. It makes the heat in Zayn’s belly spread to his limbs, and he is thankful when Liam reaches for the bottle of lube because he isn’t quite sure he can keep up with the teasing anymore -

“Thought you liked when you get your come all over my face -”

Zayn exhales sharply, images of Liam with streaks of come collected around his lips, smeared across his cheeks and that one time some had collected at his eyelashes popping into his head. He does love it - a lot, how eager Liam always is for Zayn to make a mess of him.

“I like how eager you get for it, babe. Always gagging for it, yeah? Addicted to the taste -”

“Only yours,” Liam admits, cheeks warming considerably as he brushes his lips across the _don’t think I won’t_ inked on Zayn’s hip.

Liam gentles practiced fingers against his hole as he leans forward to kiss at Zayn's cock, which lays fat and swollen against his belly as Liam uses his other hand to tilt Zayn's hips towards him.

"Taste good?" Zayn huffs out, eyes falling shut as Liam slowly pushes a digit past the rim.

He used to hate it, dirty talk, especially from Liam, who made his skin warm with the constant comments on how _tight_ he is, how beautiful he looks with Liam's cock pushed between his lips, or how _good_ he is always for him. But secretly he was in love with it, even adopting the habit himself just to watch the burn across Liam's skin and listen to the whimpers his husband always lets out whenever he does it.

Liam crawls up the length of his body, careful with the slow thrust of his finger as Zayn curls his hips forward to meet it.

"Yeah," he breathes, lips hovering over his own. There is a slight grin on his lips before he presses them to Zayn's.

Zayn groans, cupping a hand around the back of Liam's neck as Liam licks into his mouth, coating his tongue with the taste of himself. His tongue curls behind Zayn's teeth, rolls over his tongue and tickles across the roof of his mouth, making Zayn tremble underneath him.

Liam presses another digit against him, teasing against his hole until Zayn moans out his ready, grinding back against him because he is pretty sure he is going to break if Liam doesn't hurry it up.

"Don't be mean," Zayn giggles.

Liam chuckles too, pushing a second finger towards the first. "Just tryin' to see how badly you want me."

Zayn would laugh, but Liam pushes past the rim to gentle two fingers into him and he moans instead, feet coming up to plant flat on the bed to arch further into Liam's touch.

"Always want you," he admits, pressing his sigh under Liam's chin. He bites gently at the skin there, easing out a shaky moan from Liam.

"Yeah?" Liam hiccups out, scissoring his fingers slowly. "Wanna marry me or somethin'?"

Zayn huffs out a laugh, his fondness for Liam building just as quickly as his need for him to hurry it up. He does that all the time, asks Zayn to marry him and it never gets old - only makes Zayn feel like he did the first time Liam asked him to marry him.

"I'll think about it."

Zayn sucks softly at Liam's skin as he stretches him, pressing needy moans against his throat until his fingers become eager, quickly thrusting into him to ease out the resistance and get to that ball of nerves that always makes Zayn's body feel like it is going to shatter across the sheets.

"There?" Liam asks cheekily, eyes intent on the way Zayn arches back into the mattress, body quaking from the overpowering fire that surges through him.

"I take it back," he huffs out shakily, smoothing his palms against Liam's shoulders. "Definitely not marrying you."

Liam snorts, lips quirking up higher. "Too late, you’re stuck with me."

He slots their lips together, capturing Zayn's moans as he scissors his fingers, making haste because as much as Liam likes to tease he hasn't ever really been good at _keeping up_ with it for too long.

Liam cradles his arms around Zayn's head, a gentle pressure that makes him feel enclosed. By that and Liam's chest only a few inches from his, his hips stitched against his own and his cock easing slowly into him. One of the best feelings in the world he thinks, being completely consumed by Liam and he moans out softly against Liam's lips in a way of telling him.

Liam sucks in a breath when he bottoms out, close enough to inhale the breath Zayn lets out as if they are two people working together to maintain one life force. It feels like that sometimes, that they were created as two halves to one whole, meant to find each other -

(Even though it makes him embarrassed and silly for being such a sap because he never has been really, but it so hard to deny the way Liam and him reflect everything he has ever heard about what it means to be _soulmates_.)

"Gonna move or -"

Liam rolls his eyes, planting his lips to Zayn's as he pulls his hips back. "You just feel so good babe, tight around me cock -"

Zayn slides his palms down to Liam's hips, nails biting to his skin as he whimpers softly at his words. “‘Coz you’re so thick babe -”

Liam strokes forward, moaning sharply when Zayn clenches around him. “Yeah?”

Zayn lets out a breathy laugh as he nods. “Yeah. So big babe, makes me feel so full -”

"Fuck," Liam huffs, pushing up on his elbows some to fuck deeper, dropping his head between his shoulders like he knows Zayn needs him to be close still. “You always take it so well -”

Zayn mouths at the tendons of his throat, tongue rolling against the vibrations under his skin every time he moans or chokes out how good he feels, or want he wants to do _next_ -

It makes Zayn feel like his skin is catching on fire and the heat in his belly burning as it sets a wildfire through his limbs.

“Wanna see you come babe. Always so beautiful when you come,” Liam rasps out. The bed bangs steadily against the wall, the creak of the mattress singing along with the slick sound of Liam’s cock working into him. His favorite melody, paired with Liam’s overwhelmed grunts -

“Make me come then,” Zayn challenges with hiccuped words, biting around his grin as Liam’s brows furrow in determination. It is terribly adorable.

“Challenge accepted -”

His skin feels raw all over, from the rub of the sheets against his back and Liam’s beard scratching against his chin whenever their lips meet. The sweat that clings to his forehead and makes his hair cling above his eyebrows.

"Li," Zayn moans loudly, hooking an arm around Liam's shoulders to drag him back down against him. He doesn't worry about being quiet for once, letting choked out moans roll against Liam's cheek as he edges closer, riled up by the slick sound of _sex_ bouncing off their walls and the way Liam’s cock hits against his prostate with every stroke. “Right there, Liam -”

“Louder, babe,” Liam grunts out, gripping at Zayn’s jaw with rough fingers. He tilts his head back, thumb pressing into his bottom lip to drag it down as Zayn moans louder -

“ _Leeyum_ -”

Liam presses harder against him, enclosing Zayn’s prick between his torso as his hips fuck into him jerkily. Zayn bucks his hips up against Liam, the pressure on his cock exactly what he needs to drag him over the edge.

When he comes, it is without warning, only his teeth pulling at Liam's bottom lip as he streaks across their torsos, bucking up against the hard press of Liam's body with a sound passing his lips that seems deafening in his ears -

Liam is quieter, a tremble running through him and a rumble of a groan in his chest when he peaks. Nipping at Zayn's skin but quickly covering it with a kiss as he pulls out, like he can convince the bruise not to appear with an apologetic tongue -

"S'okay," Zayn huffs out, his chest rising and falling rapidly still as he pulls Liam beside him. "I like them, babe."

Liam chuckles, flopping down clumsily so his body is half on top of Zayn’s. "Me too. Makes it look like you're mine or summat."

"And the ring on my finger doesn't?"

Liam sighs contently, rolling to his side some to snuggle his back against Zayn. "Oh it does, love.”

Zayn slides his fingers against Liam's arm to intertwine them with his as Liam snuggles back against his chest, his breathing starting to slow as the air settles into a calm around them. He has always loved this the most - having his arms wrapped around Liam and feeling the way his chest rises and falls in sync with his own.

Like soulmates, or whatever -

Liam hums, bringing their hands to rest against his chest. Zayn imagines his eyes falling shut as he scrapes his lips against the back of Liam's neck, feeling just as content and relaxed as him.

"You know," Liam mutters, squeezing Zayn's fingers gently. He rubs a thumb against the back of his hand and Zayn can feel the soft thump of his heart. "I've been thinking -"

Zayn waits, snuggling closer so they are attached everywhere possible, legs tangled and cold toes pressed against Liam’s calves. He is aware of the nerves coating Liam's voice, the way he chuckles at the end of his words like he wants to play it off as a joke but Zayn knows him well enough to know whatever he is going to say he really feels.

"What's happenin’ babe?"

Liam doesn't respond for a moment, only rubs idle shapes onto the back of his hand like he is trying to soak Zayn's skin with his warmth.

"I think we should have another baby."

Zayn pauses, stilling the movement of his lips on Liam's skin where he was trying to ease the tension that suddenly ran through him as he plays over what he just said, making sure he heard him correctly. _Another baby_ -

"Like, not right now," Liam goes on without waiting for him to respond, taking his silence as a bad sign. It is clear in the rushed way he says it, words jumbling together and accent thickening like it does when he gets nervous. "I reckon we can just weigh out our options, consider it, you know? Adoption, another surrogate, I dunno. Just - it would be nice if Maira had a sister so she isn't alone in that room of hers."

"Four kids?" Zayn asks, trying not to sound alarmed because he knows how much Liam has always wanted a big family. But he is kind of alarmed, because four kids is quite a lot. Niall and Harry just started talking about how they were ready for their _first_ , and they aren’t even thirty yet -

Liam shrugs nervously, holding their hands even closer to his chest. "We can afford it, babe. Now that Patient Paws has kicked off so well, and our loans are mostly paid off -"

It is true, really. They are more than comfortable financially, especially since Liam's business has taken off so well, Bash's medical bills have paid off and they no longer have to pay for babysitting as they have enrolled their youngest in a pre-school program. But -

"Yeah, _now_ ," Zayn says carefully, feeling that tightness in his chest like he always does when he thinks about it - Bash being sick. "But if Bash gets sick again - babe, we could barely afford it."

Liam shifts onto his back and Zayn goes with him, leaning over him and tangling his fingers in the soft, damp with sweat curls at the top of his head. Liam's eyes are wide with worry, and his teeth are ruthless the way they gnaw at his already swollen bottom lip -

"He won't," Liam says confidently, curling an arm around Zayn's back. His brows push together, a determined look taking over Liam’s eyes. "Doc said so."

It hadn't been anything serious - it had only seemed like it, with the amount of doctor visits and stays in the hospital, the amount of surgeries done to help with his digestion - it seemed never ending. And everything mushed together, all the doctor’s words so that all he could really focus on was the ones that said he was getting better because that was the only thing that ever mattered.

Liam rubs his back gently, pressing a kiss to the corner of Zayn's lips. He wouldn't have been able to get through it without Liam by his side, who was able to keep himself together whenever they were in the hospital, taking in all the medical lingo and whatnot.

"And if it does happen, we will take it as it comes."

Zayn nods, falling forward to settle his cheek against Liam's chest. It is a constant worry, that fear that used to consume him coming back into his life. Or anything happening to the kids. He isn’t sure if it is common to think about it as much as he does -

"Just think about it, okay?"

He nods again. "I will," he promises, sliding a palm against his chest to feel the steady heartbeat underneath his skin. “Another baby -”

Liam chuckles, pressing his chin against the top of Zayn’s head. “Remember what it was like when we were picking out names for the twins? Planning a baby shower -”

“Fighting about genders,” Zayn chuckles at the memory, the way Liam had been so serious about how he knew they were going to be girls and Zayn had to laugh and pepper kisses to his pouty face when Zayn said he thought they were going to be boys.

“It will be another girl,” Liam sighs. “I feel it in my bones.”

Zayn snorts, pushing up to grin down at his husband. “I bet you do, babe.”

 

A few hours later, and Liam has stuck true to his promise - about fucking about everywhere in the house. They went from Liam’s back pressed to the hallway wall, Zayn’s knees digging into the carpet as Liam worked his cock past his lips, to the kitchen, Liam’s sliding fingers between his cheeks with a tongue lapping at the head of his prick. To his office - where they are now, his thighs gripping tightly around Liam's hips where he sits in his office chair, Zayn's nails digging into his shoulders as Liam's fist blurs over his cock.

Come slips between his cheeks, dripping down on Liam's softening cock as he bucks into Liam's grip. His forehead rests against his husband's, his breathing labored as Liam drags him closer to the edge once again.

"Come on babe," Liam urges, rolling his palm against the head of Zayn's prick. "Let me see you come again, baby."

He feels like he could shatter, the way his limbs tremble as he nears closer. It is rare they have this long of a period to be alone together, and the way his muscles tense almost painfully tells him he might regret it later on -

But he won't, because Liam will massage the ache out of his muscles later when the house is quiet and they are alone (at least in their room) once again -

There is the distant sound of their front door opening, the muffled sound of Harry's deep voice and the fast pad of feet running around the house that makes Zayn wrap a palm over his lips, muffling the sound he makes as he comes hot across Liam's belly.

Liam wraps an arm around his back, keeping him close as he quakes out the rest of his orgasm. He can feel the smile pressed to his temple before he nestles his head in the crook of Liam's neck, waiting for the tension to seep out of his muscles.

"Fun is over," Liam jokes, kissing at his cheeks as Zayn comes down from his orgasm. Soft voices float through the house and Zayn closes his eyes as if he can pretend they are alone for a moment longer. His children are his world, he loves being around them more than anything else, but sometimes he just craves being alone with Liam -

Zayn pushes up, pressing a soft kiss to Liam's lips before he climbs off his lap and reaches for his briefs thrown on Liam's office floor. He chucks a shirt at Liam, giggling to him to clean himself up as he hears the pad of feet outside of the office door.

His legs shake and Liam presses his palm to his spine to steady him. “Alright?”

Zayn furrows his brow at him. “Don’t be cocky -”

He slides his hands up Liam’s chest, grinning softly. Liam’s fingers slide under his jaw, tilting his head so their lips can meet once more.

“Never felt better,” Zayn says lowly when Liam pulls away and lets his hand fall to his sides. Liam’s eyes shut around his smile, the flush in his cheeks returning as he steps into his briefs.

"Maira, no running in the house!"

"But Uncle Haz! I want to show Papa and Baba my wicked cool cast!"

Zayn and Liam look at each other for a moment before it is a scramble to pull on enough clothes to be half way decent before they are bursting out of Liam’s office, in search of Maira because if she has a broken bone Harry is dead. Actually dead and Zayn will confess to the crime without hesitation -

Harry's hands are in the air in when they find him, a look of panic on his face that surely mimics the ones on their own.

"She isn't hurt," he explains quickly. Maira pops out  in front of him, arm flying out in front of her to show the ace bandage around her left arm, covered in stickers and shakily drawn doodles. There is a smile that stretches high into her cheeks and it is clearly a shit job of bandaging but Liam is on his knees in front of her with his eyes narrowed in concern and shaky fingers reaching to cup her chubby cheeks.

"A girl at the park had one and I wanned one," Maira explains, bouncing on her toes some. "So Uncle Ni made me it."

"It's lovely," Liam coos, brows furrowing together as he continues to examine whether their daughter is really hurt or not. He traces a gentle finger over the ace bandage, eyeing Maira’s expression to see if she flinches.

The sound of Niall's laughter fills the room as he walks in with Mahaad wrapped around his back, Bash shuffling in behind him. Normally his laugh is infectious, hard not to smile at but right now Zayn is struggling to grin.

"What were their faces like, babe?" Niall says to Harry through his laugh, face reddening from the force of it.

Zayn drags fingers through Bash's hair as he comes up to him, glaring at Niall because he knows the bastard probably told Maira to scare them like that. She is a trouble maker, constantly popping in on them with a scream and doubling over in laughter when they scream in response. And Zayn swears that is Niall’s fault.

Bash is practically to his chest when he wraps his arms around him, and it is still overwhelming how big he has gotten. Eleven now - Zayn still remembers when he was born, and how tiny he had thought him to be when he was cradled in his forearms, his world weighing in at barely six pounds.

"Alright, babe?"

Bashar nods, tilting his head up so Zayn can see the smile that makes his cheeks bunch up. "Got ice cream."

Zayn snorts fondly. "And candy, yeah?"

Bashar nibbles on his bottom lip, nodding. The only person who beats Liam out on spoiling the kids is Niall, with junk food as his weapon.

"Guess that means broccoli for dinner," Zayn sighs dramatically and Bashar gives him a look that tells him that he is two seconds away from begging him for that not to be the case.

Liam scoops Maira up into his arms, pressing a messy kiss to her forehead as she goes on about the different doodles, mostly drawn on by Bash and Mahaad.

"So," Niall says as he helps Mahaad off of his back, looking a bit sheepish. "I was going to ask if we could stay for dinner but if it's broccoli mate, I rather not -"

“After that shit you just pulled,” Liam says with a serious expression, poking Niall hard in the chest. “No -”

Maira gasps loudly, cutting Liam off before her brows furrow and her lips press tightly together. She looks so much like Liam when he is stern (hard to take serious because of how adorable he is) that Zayn has to cup a hand over his lips to keep the laugh from bubbling past them.

“Thas a bad word, Papa,” Maira scolds, poking Liam in the chest like he had just done to Niall. Liam fakes a worried expression, hiking their daughter higher up on his hip.

“Yeah, _Papa_ ,” Niall mocks with his tongue wagging out. He jerks away when Zayn reaches to pinch him, his amused expression slipping into something more fearful.

++

When Zayn finally is able to leave the library, which is considered his office as he is only an adjunct professor still, he feels dead on his feet. It is only six when he leaves, but his office hours went over by _three,_ andthe university is almost an hour away from home.

And luckily it is Friday, so he will only have to grade a few homework assignments but he won't have to leave his house for the next two days, at least. And the semester is almost over, which means soon he will be knee deep in finger paint and sweating in his camp counselor polo -

He lets out a breath of relief as he pads up the stairs to their home, a calm surging through him as he hears muffled little voices grow louder as he walks through the house, the familiar scent of home filling his senses, the scent of his lavender candles and Liam’s _Crisp Morning Air_ freshener, but something else he can never put a name on when he is away -

It’s just _home_.

"Baba!" Mahaad screams, tiny feet scurrying across the carpet where he was sitting watching Phineas and Ferb on the carpet, way too close to the screen.

Pizza boxes lay across the table in front of the couch, empty plates filled with crumbs lying around and Maira and Bashar curled on the couch with their legs entangled. Zayn frowns as he takes in the mess.

"I saved you a pizza," Mahaad says with wide eyes, pointing to one of the boxes that is clearly empty. “Chicken and extra cheese. Just for you!”

Zayn snorts, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. He had told Liam he would be missing dinner, so he isn't much concerned that there isn’t any left. Only fonds at the proud smile on his son's lips. Thoughtful little bean, he is - they all are.

"Where's Papa?" He asks as he walks to the couch to press a kiss to the older two's foreheads.

"Dunno'," Maira giggles as Zayn wiggles his nose against her rounded cheeks.

He pauses, face crumpling into a frown. "Whaddya mean -"

"Papa brought us to the park with Uncle Ni after school," Bashar informs him, not looking up from the sketch pad balanced on his knee. Graphite stains the side of his hand and is smudged against his cheek. Zayn licks the pad of his thumb, ignoring the narrow of Bash’s eyes when he wipes away the mark. “ _Aargh, Baba_ \- and then he left. Ge’off now -”

Zayn rolls his eyes before pinching his cheek fondly.

"I fink he's on the phone," Maira adds, pushing up straighter to peek at what her older brother is drawing. “Uncle Ni.”

Like he knows he is being talked about, Niall pads into the living room with his cellphone pressed between his ear and shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of Zayn and his cheeks flushing considerably.

"Gotta go, Mum. Love ye."

He hangs up, shoving the phone into his pocket as Zayn looks to him. It isn't uncommon for Niall or Harry to babysit at random times when Liam is called into work, or Zayn is called into a meeting, but usually Liam tells him -

"Li had to help Harry with summat. I dunno, think they're planning me a surprise party."

Zayn chuckles, not pointing out that it is May and Niall's birthday isn't until September. "Should have known you were here. Pizza _and_ past their bedtimes, Niall?"

It is a gentle scold that Niall laughs at, fingers reaching to twirl in his hair - a nervous habit of his. Liam used to yell at him whenever he would sneak Bashar pieces of pizza or soda when they lived together in college, and he always had pockets full of candy whenever he came to Zayn's. Even though Liam always spoiled Bashar the same way.

"Right so, you don't need me anymore then?"

Zayn sighs, scooping Mahaad into his arms. "Clean up the pizza before you go, yeah?"

Zayn carries Mahaad into the bathroom, sitting him on the counter as Maira follows suit. He scrubs off the pizza sauce dried to Mahaad’s face, pretending like it is the hardest thing in the world to do and the little boy giggles so much Zayn has to brace a hand against his stomach to make sure he doesn’t topple off the counter of the sink.

“Will you be terribly upset with me if I said no baths tonight?” Zayn asks, frowning some as he helps Mahaad off the counter and hands him his toothbrush before tending to Maira.

“No, Baba,” Mahaad tells him happily. He focuses intently on the toothbrush, tongue poked between his lips as he puts toothpaste onto it. “I hate baths.”

“Thas why you smell,” Maira says with superiority in her voice, lifting her arms up to allow Zayn to help her into her pajamas. They can do it on their own, but sometimes Zayn just needs these little moments to pretend they are still babies.

Zayn gives her a pointed look, biting on the inside of his mouth as not to break his stern look with a laugh.

“Sorry, bhai. You don’t smell - _too bad_. And Baba, can you still read to us?”

Zayn does, just like he does every night, settling them into Mahaad’s bed as Bashar takes over the bathroom for his shower (which is new, and Zayn might have been a little stressed about it the first time Bashar asked to take a shower instead of a bath, because that is a sign that his baby is getting older, but Liam had held him through it and tried his hardest not to laugh at him for it.)

Maira settles between his legs, holding the book for him as Mahaad looks on from beside him, tracing her fingers over the words faster than Zayn can read them.

Mahaad knocks out first like always, fingers tucked under his chin and snoring softly before Bashar pads back into the room. Zayn pulls a sleepy Maira into his arms, lips pressing to Bash's forehead before he carries her to her room.

"Baba," Maira murmurs as he tucks the blanket to her chin, making sure it completely covers her because the breeze from the window is cold but she will end up climbing out of bed later to have him open it if he closes it."Can I put my bed in the other room?"

Zayn sits on the edge of the bed, brushing away the hair that fell in front of her face. "You don't like your room? Papa just painted it purple like you asked -"

She had mentioned it one day, about wanting a purple room after Bashar had asked for green. Liam had gone out that day and had it nearly finished by the time they got home. Bashar and Mahaad’s room is still unpainted, because the two boys can’t agree on a color even though Mahaad’s favorite is also green.

Maira sighs, sliding her palms under her cheek and turning to her side. "You and Papa share a room and Bash and Mahaad."

Zayn nibbles on his bottom lip, unsure of what to say. He wants to ask if Papa put her up to this but he knows he wouldn't. Liam had been too afraid to get her hopes up about a puppy when he had been trying to convince Zayn to let him bring one home from work, so he knows he wouldn’t tell them about another possible baby without Zayn being on board with it.

"We'll see pumpkin. But you got your Mr. Teddy for now, right?" He moves the big bear, nearly double her size and a present from her Auntie Ruth one Christmas, away from the corner of her bed and closer to her.

Maira only nods, eyes heavy and starting to close. He peppers kisses to her hairline, humming a tune that Liam used to sing so they would fall asleep. He waits for her breathing to even out before he carefully removes himself from the room.

Zayn shuffles into his own, too tired to do anything other than strip off his work clothes and tug on a worn pair of Liam's joggers before he falls onto the bed, sighing the moment his body sinks into the foam mattress. His job isn’t too strenuous in a physical way or anything, but there is a tension in his muscles from the stress and an ache in his spine from being hunched over textbooks.

He opens his phone to text Liam, eyeing the late time when car headlights shine through his room and the familiar rumble of Liam's truck pulling into the driveway hits his ears.

It is easier to let his eyes fall shut knowing Liam's home, listening for the unlock of the door and his feet against the floor. Even if he isn’t consciously aware of it, it is like his body is at peace the moment everyone is where they should be - home.

Liam chuckles under his breath when he walks into the room, no doubt seeing the way Zayn is sprawled out like a starfish on their bed, face crumpled as he pretends to be asleep.

He is trying to fall asleep, but he peeks an eye open instead, watching Liam shuck off his pants so he is down to just his black briefs and tugging off the red Patient Paws polo before padding over to Zayn.

"Long day?" He murmurs, scraping his lips across Zayn's cheekbone. He sits beside him, against his hip and smoothes fingers up his back, pressing into the muscles around his spine.

Zayn hums, sliding his arms under the pillow beneath his head as Liam coaxes the tensions out of his muscles. "My students think I'm too bloody difficult -"

Liam chuckles quietly, digging his fingers into the thick muscle wrapped around the curves of his shoulders. He groans softly, feeling Liam's lips graze against his skin again.

"You are."

Zayn grins. "M'not, babe. They just want an A handed to them. I mean, one kid asked me for the definition of confirmation bias when he could have just read the text like I assigned. The definition was literally word for word on the second page of the chapter, and he would have seen that confirmation bias is _‘_ _the tendency to interpret new evidence as confirmation of one's existing beliefs or theories’_ -”

Liam peppers kisses to his skin, listening as he rambles on about the other kids. It is a bit unfair, and he doesn't really mean most of it, but Liam lets him vent until he is out of breath and the stress has seeped away from him and he can truly enjoy the way Liam’s fingers dig into the muscles of his back.

"What about you," he sighs when his tirade is over, scooching over to make room for Liam to curl beside him. He wraps his arms around Zayn, dragging him close so his cheek rests against his chest. The scent of perfume like lingers to his skin and he wrinkles his nose, wondering who the hell chose the scent for Liam’s air freshener at work -

"Paperwork day," Liam tells him with a tired sigh. "And had to run a town over to help my sister with her car."

Zayn stiffens. He is lying - and Zayn doesn't only know that because Niall had told him something completely different, but it is in the gulp he took before he said the last bit, the hesitancy in his voice and the way his heart thumps loudly against his sternum.

Zayn pulls back, taking in the flush on Liam's cheeks. "Nialler said that you were off with Harry?"

Liam's brows stitch together, a confused look on his face and it further confirms what Zayn already knows, that he is lying. He has never been a good actor and neither has Zayn really, but he has watched Liam put on a fake show of emotions enough times with the kids that he can tell the difference.

"I definitely told him I was going to see Nicola."

Zayn lets it go, resting back against Liam's chest. Liam has lied to him only a handful of times, and they were always silly things - like swearing he didn't give Bash cookies too close to bedtime, and acting confused as to why he wouldn't settle down to go to sleep. Or telling Zayn he had a business meeting but instead he came back home from picking Zayn's mum up from the train for a surprise visit.

"She's alright?" Zayn murmurs, pressing a kiss to his chest and listening for his heartbeat to slow down. The scent on Liam’s skin tickles his nose again and he tries not to think too much about it, because it could be Nicola’s.

"Yeah, she's good. Been seein’ more of that guy she has been talking to. Talked me ear off about it -”

"Did you tell her we are going to start looking into having another baby?"

Liam freezes for a moment like he can't process Zayn's words before he moves, tangling Zayn into his arms and rolling them so Zayn is on top of him so quickly that a surprised gush of air rushes past Zayn’s lips.

"We - we are?" Liam asks, happiness radiating off him like sunrays. The ultimate Liam joy - with cheeks bunching up around a smile and eyes practically falling closed and ultimately, Zayn’s biggest weakness.

He hasn't actually thought about it extensively, but he can't find a reason why they shouldn't. And he has a feeling Maira may have expressed her concerns about sharing a room to her Papa, which is why Liam had used that as a reason to have another baby. And he finds himself missing how little his babies used to be, even though he loves to see how great of kids they are growing up to be -

And he remembers clearly the feeling in his chest the first time he ever held Bashar, and Maira and Mahaad. The best three moments of his life, followed by meeting Liam.

Zayn shrugs, trying not to smile at the excitement on Liam's face but it proves to be impossible. It is intoxicating, dragging Zayn in and making his head feel fuzzy.  "Yeah, I think it would be a good idea. Another little Malik running around -"

Liam cuts him off with a hard press of his lips against his own, making him gasp out a laugh and slide his fingers to the back of Liam's head to support him as their lips move together. It feels like their wedding night, an excitement ricocheting around the room, the light between them growing brighter - stronger with the force of their smiles.

"Thank you babe," Liam says softly, pecking his lips against Zayn's a few (dozen) times.

"Don't have to thank me. Nothing makes me happier than our family," Zayn tells him, letting Liam roll them again so it is Liam on his back this time. Zayn traces a finger against the corner of his quirked up lips.  “Than you being happy. _Meri jaan -”_

Liam drags a thumb down his bottom lip, his expression falling into something serious that is still warm and fond. It reminds him of when Zayn had first brought up having a baby together. One night a little over six years ago, on that old manky couch with Liam’s back pressed to his chest and Zayn’s fingers in his hair. He had just suggested it - blurted it out really, having had the thought a few times throughout the week before. And Liam had dropped hints constantly between then and when they were married, having never brought it up because he was afraid Zayn’s stress with Bashar as a baby had made him not want anymore kids.

Or the look on his face when him and Liam had told Bashar the news, a few months before the twins were due. They had brought him to Niall’s restaurant, ordered his favorite meal of chicken nuggets and Niall’s special potatoes, and Liam had been practically bouncing out of the booth from how excited he had been to tell their oldest son that he was going to be a big brother. He had researched it for weeks, the proper way to tell a six year old that they were going to be a big sibling.

(Bashar wasn’t half as excited at the time, more concerned with the fact that he was probably going to have to share his Buzz Lightyear doll with the new babies, but after a few days his new siblings were all he could talk about, telling random people and constantly reminding Zayn that he gets to hold them the moment they come home.)

“Me too,” Liam murmurs before leaning down to fasten their lips together for a brief moment. He grins into it, soaking in the happiness from Liam’s smile that makes adrenaline rush through him -

“Did Maira ask you if she could move into the boy’s room?” He asks when he pulls off, tucking his arms underneath Liam’s shoulders.

Liam nods. "We were having some tea with Peter Parker and she told me her and him are going to move her bed into the other room when we are asleep."

Zayn snorts, fondness for his daughter making his chest swell. "Her and Spidey?"

He nods, eyes falling shut around his laugh. "She looked pretty determined. Just like her Papa, I was afraid we would wake up with her trying to get that bad out of there ‘cause she gave me a look like _bullshit_ when I told her she wasn’t allowed to do that."

Zayn grins, rubbing a thumb across Liam's cheek to feel the warmth under his pink skin. "Well now she won't have to."

His face softens as he nuzzles into Zayn’s touch. "Thank you, babe."

"Stop thanking me," Zayn chuckles, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I will," Liam says cheekily, a grin stitched onto his lips. He wiggles his eyebrows, sliding his hands to the dip at the bottom of Zayn’s spine. "After a quick shower, yeah?"

Zayn flushes, rolling off of him but he reaches out to catch his fingers as he tries to move away from him. He lets go regretfully, pouting at his husband for leaving him.

Liam grins, both eyes falling shut as he attempts to wink and it makes a fondness grow in his chest as he looks on before he is scrambling out of bed to stitch his chest to Liam’s back and join him in the shower, no longer feeling so tired.

 

It is later that night, after Liam has thanked him with a tongue between his cheeks and strong fingers digging into his skin, that the warmth he feels turns cold, even though Liam has wrapped himself around Zayn's back and his warm breath grazes against his skin.

He goes cold when he rubs a thumb over Liam's knuckles, listening to his breathing as he remembers him lying earlier, the scent of an unfamiliar perfume while his eyes graze over the pale strip of skin around the bottom of his ring finger, bare of his wedding ring for the first time in years. The light from the moon outside of their window seems to make the strip of skin glow, burning at Zayn’s eyes -

Zayn clenches his eyes closed, nuzzling his back further against Liam’s chest until Liam huffs out in his sleep, fingers curling tighter around his own. He tries to go to sleep, to clear his mind but his thoughts race.

He always does this, worries about things he shouldn’t worry about, connects things that really have no connection. It has always led to their fights, the few somewhat serious ones they have had. He _knows this_ -

However, it isn’t easy to ignore the part of his brain, the stronger part really, that tells him to worry about it.

"Alright?" Liam mumbles, waking up from Zayn’s constant fidgeting. He moves their hands to rest against Zayn's chest, trapping him closer to his own like he knows Zayn needs a tight hold at the moment, even though Zayn knows he isn't fully awake.

Zayn just hums out his response, listening to Liam fall back asleep moments later.

++

The next morning Zayn wakes up to his bed shaking violently as his children jump excitedly on it and Liam's lips, gentle in comparison against his neck as he mumbles in a thick voice for the kids to let them sleep a few more minutes. They have opened their curtains, and the sunlight that beams in burns red to the back of his eyelids.

They don’t listen, however, tugging on their ankles and tickling their tummies like Liam and Zayn do to them all the time to get them out of bed for school. Liam groans, pressing a messy kiss to the corner of Zayn’s mouth that has Bashar making a noise of disgust.

“You shower, I’ll breakfast,” Liam mumbles, wrinkling his nose around a laugh as he listens to the kids scurry off in fear of witnessing another form of parent PDA.

He drags his lips lazily over Zayn’s, humming contently in his throat before he pushes up from the mattress to escape their sheets. He drags a hand down his face as he watches Liam pull on some pants, remembering the reason he feels so tired.

Zayn feels better when he sees the ring back on Liam's finger when he curls his fingers around the steering wheel, bouncing happily in his seat as the kids sing along to the music playing from the car radio.

They are headed to Patient Paws, since Liam has a meeting and _Clark_ is back -

"You think he will remember me?" Bashar says excitedly, still wearing that smile that has been stitched onto his lips since he helped wake them up this morning.

"Course," Zayn tells him before Liam can answer. "You're his best mate, there is no way he could forget you."

Bashar's smile grows and warmth spreads through Zayn as he eyes him through the rearview.

Liam slides his fingers through Zayn's on his lap, squeezing them briefly with a knowing smile before he pulls his hand away.

"Can we play fetch wit'em?" Maira asks, eyebrows raising into her hairline as she pushes up in her booster seat.

"Tug a war!" Mahaad cheers with tiny fists in the air and Zayn snorts because he knows the youngest one will be wrapped tight around his neck in fear of being put down anywhere near the dogs, even though Clark is an old boy with a bad hip that he just had surgery on.

"No babe," Liam says, pulling into the parking lot closest to his office. It started out as a charity Liam put together at the local hospital where Bash had stayed most times, bringing therapy dogs to visit the kids, working with the same families that used to bring their dogs to the hospital when Bashar was there -

But now there is a training school in the back, and the doggy daycare lodge behind it, surrounded by acres of land with the employees housing at the end of it. It is mostly filled with dogs who are waiting to be adopted now, all of which Liam has tried to convince Zayn to keep but Mahaad -

“He has to take it easy, okay? No rough housing,” Liam goes onto explain, peeking at them through the rearview mirror. “Gotta be gentle.”

"Can we pet him, then?" Mahaad pipes up eagerly and Liam sends an amused grin Zayn's way, mischief in his eyes. "I will be suuuuper gentle, I pinky pwomise."

"Oh, I think he'll love that, babe."

“I’ll show you how,” Bashar says seriously, making Mahaad raise his fists in a cheer again.

As expected though, a nervous look crosses the youngest’s face the moment they are out of the car, eyes immediately going to Zayn, who is already reaching his arms out for him. The shake in his limbs relax the moment he has a death grip around Zayn's shoulders.

"M'gonna pet him," he whispers like it is top secret as Zayn follows behind the others. "But don't let me down."

 

Bashar sits in the grass with Clark's head in his lap, fingers scratching through the thick, blond fur behind his ears. Maira lost interest awhile ago, choosing to run around with one of the care takers and a puppy chocolate lab, who is staying for the week while his family is on vacation.

Bashar hums contently, his grin widening whenever the old pup moves his head or licks his palm.

"Come on, Mahaad," Bashar urges quietly, giggling when Clark licks his wrist lazily. "He isn’t scary, look at ‘im -"

Mahaad has been watching the whole time, chest pressed against Zayn's but body twisted around, enough so he can watch his brother and the dog. He doesn't move an inch when Bashar beckons him over, and only squeezes tighter when Zayn tries to ease him off of his lap with whispered encouragement.

"When I was at the doctors, Clark used to come see me," Bash goes on patiently. He tickles his fingers at the top of the dog's head, glancing at Mahaad. "And I would just do this and then I would feel loads better."

Mahaad loosens his grip some, face scrunching together in suspicion. Zayn hides his grin, remembering the way Bashar’s face used to glow in excitement, just like now, whenever he would hear the sound of Clark’s paws tapping against the tile floors of the hospital.

“You were a little baby, so you couldn’t pet him but now you can,” Bash goes on, sliding his palm to smooth out the fur. “And he is really gentle.”

Bashar does it a few more times, glancing between where he pets the dog and his little brother before Mahaad finally climbs off of Zayn's lap, carefully moving closer. “Is that why he your best friend?”

"Yeah, that means he has to be nice to you, 'cause you're my little brother. Go 'head," Bashar encourages softly. Clark's eyes have fallen shut, but he quirks up a tuft of hair that resembles a brow as Mahaad nears a shaky hand closer.

Zayn goes forgotten, but he doesn't mind as he watches his boys fondly, whispering to each other about how soft the dog’s fur is, and Mahaad giggling when he accidentally touches Clark’s wet nose. He stays in an arm's reach of Mahaad just in case Clark gets up suddenly or something that would scare the boy, but he seems content - more comfortable with the large dog.

Maira comes back curiously a few minutes later, Liam following in her wake. There is a grin on his lips that make his eyes crinkle to the point where they practically fall shut as he looks between Mahaad and Zayn. He wiggles his fingers towards them and Mahaad points to where his hand rests on the top of Clark’s head, a proud look on his face.

Their daughter waits for him so she can settle into his lap when he sits beside Zayn, resting her back against his chest and pulling his arms around her middle before he can do it himself. She had insisted on wearing her favorite white tights underneath her shorts this morning, and they are torn and muddied up just like Zayn had told her they would get.

Zayn only rolls his eyes at the cheeky grin on Liam's lips, knowing what is going through his mind. Liam pouts, nodding his head to indicate Mahaad petting Clark and giggling over it.

"Can't afford both," Zayn whispers, slipping his fingers against Liam's back and hooking his chin on his shoulder.

"Yeah, we can," Liam tries, but he sighs in defeat, turning to plant his lips to Zayn's nose. Defeat only for the moment because he won't give up on it, Zayn knows, and Zayn will end up giving in like he always does.

++

"I'm telling you, Z. No one knows what the fuck they are doing. Incompetent like, what the fuck am I paying you for -"

Zayn hums, the best response for Louis when he starts going off about work - or anything in general, really. He never vents for advice, just to get the load off his shoulders and complain about people. Just like Zayn, which is why they have been friends for so long, he thinks.

He hides his grin against Liam's jaw, trying to be quiet as Liam slides a palm underneath his shirt, smoothing it up until his fingers span across his ribcage. A buzz runs through his limbs, a shiver rattling across his skin -

Liam presses him closer to their bedroom wall, and hopefully he is listening for little voices, that are supposed to be sleeping, because Louis' voice gets louder and deafening in his ear and he won’t be able to hear them.

"My best event director is knees deep in an event and I am fucked without her, really. They listen to her better than me and don’t tell anyone I told you this, but I swear she can even do my job better than me -"

Liam peppers kisses across his jaw and Zayn's head tilts automatically back, allowing Liam to mouth at the length of his neck. There is a calm settled around them, contrasting with the frantic way Louis speaks.

"Give someone else the event," Zayn offers to satiate him. He slides the hand not holding the phone around Liam's back, pressing him closer and molding him to his body. "So she can come back."

Liam groans quietly, spreading Zayn's legs with his own. His teeth graze at his skin before pulling it into his mouth, making Zayn jerk the phone from his ear suddenly so Louis won't hear the shuddered breath he lets out.

Zayn had disappeared into their bedroom when Louis’ call had come through, but Liam had followed him in with a look of mischief in his eyes and touchy hands and Zayn has never been able to resist him.

He misses most of what Louis says, hearing only, " - important event, for a friend you know. I can't give it to anyone else."

"You don't have any friends," Zayn muses. Liam's fingers slide against his jaw, moving his head back so he can hover his lips over his. He presses his hips forward, circling his hips against Zayn's and fuck -

It is beautiful the way his lips part as he lets out a breath, the way his eyes flutter shut for a moment, just from the way they feel pressed together. He is so hard under his clothes, and Zayn wonders how offended Louis would be if he suddenly hangs up so his husband can fuck him against their bedroom wall -

"Hang up," Liam murmurs hoarsely, eyes dark and the corner of his lips quirked up. "Please? Before they wake up."

"I do have friends, you prick. You, which clearly was a bad decision on my part -"

"Right," Zayn murmurs distractedly, tuned into the way Liam circles his hips against his own, rocking against his own in a way that makes his words come out tight. "I gotta go, though. Maira's calling -"

Louis scoffs. "You mean Liam. Call me when you're done, prick. See what I mean? Bad decisions -"

Zayn snorts as he hangs up, sliding the phone into the pocket of his joggers. Liam pushes his lips against his own without waiting, settling his fingers under Zayn’s jaw to guide the kiss, a rough pressure against his skin that makes arousal throb in his belly -

Liam groans roughly when Zayn slides his palms against the curve of his bum, spreading him gently as he pulls their hips closer.

“Think we have time,” Liam huffs out, moving his lips upZayn’s jaw. He grazes his teeth against the lobe of Zayn’s ear, his words sending a shiver down Zayn’s back as he breathes them there. “For you to bend me over a lil’, get me all loose and wet for you -”

Zayn moans, gripping Liam a bit harder. “One of us has to pick up Bashar in twenty minutes,” he reminds him regretfully.

Liam pushes his lips into a pout, sliding one of his hands down his torso to tug at the waistband of Zayn’s pants. “A quick blowie, perhaps?”

Zayn snorts, rolling his eyes but his cock twitches against it’s confines as he watches Liam run his tongue across those obscene, ruddy colored lips.

“Could fuck my face if you want,” Liam murmurs lowly. "Know you like that -"

“I guess that would be okay,” he chokes out hoarsely as Liam cups a palm against him through the material of his clothes. His cock twitches under Liam’s palm, making his husband chuckle breathlessly before he surges forward to fasten their lips together again.

“Stroke off while I’m down your throat?” Zayn suggests against his lips,

Liam huffs out a breath, nodding as an overwhelmed look makes his eyes wide. His fingers breach the tip of his joggers just as a knock sounds behind them and a tiny voice, muffled through the door, squeaks out.

“Papa!"

Liam groans, resting their foreheads together for a moment as he trails his fingers back up Zayn’s belly. “You jinxed us," he whispers before saying a louder, "Coming, beti.”

Zayn giggles, pecking his lips to Liam’s cheek. “Tonight, perhaps?”

“Can’t,” he sighs, pushing away from Zayn. “Gotta ‘head up to Wolver-Hampton tonight to check out this venue tomorrow.”

He pads off to open the door after that, leaving Zayn staring in his wake.

He sees Maira’s arms before he sees her, reaching up for Liam in the doorway. A sleepy look makes her eyes heavy and there are red marks on her face from sleeping on her hands.

She nuzzles her face into Liam’s neck, whimpering quietly. “Can I sweep in your room?”

"'Course, pumpkin."

“Kind of last minute there, babe.”

Liam frowns at him from over Maira’s shoulder, carrying her over to their bed. He rubs a palm against her back, gentle circular motions that always worked on them when they were little and too fussy to fall asleep.

“I told you last week,” he whispers. She is already asleep again by the time he rests her against the pillows and slides their comforter over her, tucking it under her chin and placing a kiss to her forehead.

“Forgot,” Zayn mumbles, scratching at the back of his neck and giving Liam an apologetic look. He doesn’t remember at all, actually, and he is pretty sure Liam hadn’t mentioned it, but it doesn’t matter. Liam leaves a lot for work, for one or two nights at a time since he travels to hospitals other than their local one. “Could you remind me?”

Liam shuffles over to press his lips back to Zayn’s forehead. He rubs his palms up and down Zayn’s arms. “Looking at a venue for a pet adoption event,” he tells him.

Or _lies_ to him, _,_ actually.

Zayn searches his face, watching the way Liam doesn’t look at him but there is a grin on his lips that doesn’t match the nervous look in his eyes.

"Better stop and see Lou then," Zayn mumbles, moving away from Liam to walk out of the room. He tries not to let it bother him, he does. "Been stressed about work, maybe take him out for me tonight? And probably don’t ask for his help to find a venue."

Liam is behind him, hands sliding against his hips as they leave Maira in their room. His lips tickle against the skin of Zayn’s neck. "Will do, baby. How about that blowie -"

Zayn turns, pecking Liam's cheek and ignoring the glint in his eyes because the arousal curling in his belly has turned to something sour. "Maira didn't want to be alone, which is why she asked to come into the room, I reckon. And I should probably go pick up Bashar."

Liam's face falls for a moment, eyes scrunching together at Zayn's tone before he nods and turns back to duck into the room.

Zayn sighs, staring at where Liam just was before he turns on his heel in search of the keys to his car.

One of the first time they had truly fought - a serious fight which resulted in both of them being actually upset, seeming so long ago but Zayn still remembers like it was yesterday, had been his own fault - his thoughts' fault.

And it was dumb, on his part. Liam went to a party for senior week, after practically having spent the last four semesters taking on a role as _daddy_ , spending any of his free time with Bashar and Zayn, but he still had been mad even though it was completely reasonable for Liam to have a night to himself. It made him worry again, maybe Liam didn't want this, even though they had already been together for almost two years at that point and Liam literally did nothing else to make him feel like he wanted something other than Bashar and him.

And then he went out a second time, tip toeing into Zayn's room to curl behind him with alcohol on his breath and perfume on his clothes and Liam didn't deserve the hell Zayn put him through after that, going between pulling himself and Bash away from him without explanation, only passive aggressive comments about Liam wanting something other than them, to craving Liam by his side because the rational side of his brain told him to remember how good Liam is to him and his son and just because he goes out once and smells like the girl who always falls over him doesn't change that.

And Liam caught on, of course, knowing him better than anyone and proving to him that Zayn had no reason to think he wanted anything else -

By proposing.

Elaborately like everything Liam does, and embarrassing for him really - because when Liam paused his class president speech at graduation with a _I don't know yet what my future has in store for me, but I do know who I want beside me, to take on whatever life has in store for me_ \- Zayn's cheeks had felt like fire and the close proximity of everyone around him made him feel like he was suffocating, because he just wanted to get up from his seat and kiss Liam  to get him to shut up, because he kept going on about how in love he was with Zayn and Bashar. Everyone cooed and clapped, and his parents _sobbed_ -

And even though he was embarrassed, he thought his heart was going to break out of his chest and return to the man whom it belonged to.

Zayn drags a hand down his face as he pulls into the parking lot of Patient Paws, knowing if he even asks Liam about lying, or not wearing the ring or the unfamiliar perfume, he will know Zayn's fears. And he will shut them down, like he does every time, but possibly be offended that Zayn doubts him.

And if he doesn’t shut them down well -

Bashar comes running from the yard, shirt covered in muddy paw prints like he had been rolling around with Clark in the dirt. There is a happy grin on his face as he grabs for Zayn's hand to go back to the car, waving goodbye to the trainer Jade, a close friend of Liam's, that had been watching him while he visited his dog.

"Alright, beta?"

Bashar nods, squeezing Zayn's fingers. Now that he is eleven, he constantly reminds Zayn he is too _big_ to cuddle, but Zayn is happy he at least lets him hold his hand still.

"Can we get Papa a puppy for your tenth anniversary?" Bash starts as he hops into the backseat of Zayn's car, a hopeful expression on his face. "A really old puppy that might be named Clark?"

Zayn chuckles, tickling his fingers under Bash's chin as he straps in. His round cheeks are flushed and sweat lines his forehead even though it is overcast today. "That’s not for another three years babe."

Bashar shakes his head adamantly, a serious expression taking over his face. "No, Papa said this year."

Zayn frowns, taking a moment to realize Bash isn't talking about their wedding anniversary. But their relationship in general, ten years in a few weeks -

They had married a year after Liam proposed, because even though Zayn wanted it to be quick - Liam wanted it to be perfect, traditional and _elaborate_.

"Do _you_ want Clark?"

Bash shrugs, but the truth is in the wide, hopeful look in his eyes. The same puppy eyed look he learned from Liam when they used to team up against him to stay up late or _just one more cookie please_. "Best friends stick together, right?"

Zayn nods, ducking inside the car to smack a kiss to Bash's cheeks. He used to tell him that all the time at the hospital, whenever he giggled in amazement about how Clark never left his side. "That's right, babe."

He sighs out, folding his hands onto his lap. “Well, we gotta get ‘im somethin’ then if we can’t have Clark yet.”

Zayn grins fondly, scratching his fingers through Bash’s messy hair. He feels guilty about the dog and he makes a mental note to talk to Liam about how much his vet bills are so he can know if they really can afford both -

Another baby and a dog, it seems overwhelming but like nothing at the same time, because of the way it makes happiness radiate off his son's face.

“How about you make something for Papa? Draw him something?  You know how much he loves when you draw for him.”

Bash’s eyes widen, his lips parting some in excitementz "Will you help me?”

“Of course, beta.”

 

When they get home it is to the sound of high pitched giggles filling the room, mostly Maira’s but Zayn can make out the softer bubbles of laughter that come from Mahaad.

“Argh!” Liam roars as Zayn walks into the living room to find Liam with two wiggling bodies on each shoulder. His arms bulge as he holds on tightly to them, stomping around the living room like a monster. He dips his knees, pretending to drop them suddenly and they screech so loud Zayn flinches as the noise pierces through his eardrums.

Liam stops dead in his tracks when he turns and spots Zayn, a warm smile covering the mock look of anger he had on his face. A big teddy bear, he swears -

“Found these things in our closet,” Liam chuckles, shaking Maira and Mahaad and making them giggle even more. “Aliens from another galaxy, I reckon. I don’t know what to do with them.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, walking into the living room. He presses a kiss to Liam’s lips, earning a litany of grossed out squeals from their twins. “Well, I do need something to make for dinner tonight -”

“No!” Mahaad and Maira yell in unison, wiggling even harder against Liam’s grip as they try to break his hold.

Liam turns, pretending to munch on Maira’s cheek. He wrinkles his nose before bending down and letting them stand up. “They taste rank, babe. I think we are going to have to figure something else out for dinner.”

Mahaad wraps around his waist as Maira scurries around them, screaming at her Papa to chase her and making airplane noises as her arms fly out like wings. Zayn tangles his fingers into Mahaad’s hair as Liam stands back up. He cups a hand around the back of Zayn’s head, pulling him closer to brush his lips against Zayn’s.

“You taste alright, though.”

It is so quiet Zayn has to strain his ears to hear him. He warms, pressing a hard kiss to Liam’s mouth before scooping up Mahaad upside down and joining in their wrestling as Bash settles onto the couch to watch and laugh at them.

++

Liam presses him against the wall, an arm snaking around his lower back and lips slotting against his own. He hums quietly, but it goes unheard under the soft groan Liam lets out.

“Babe,” Zayn chuckles against his lips when Liam rocks his hips against Zayn’s, his other hand curling around the back of Zayn’s neck. “You’re leaving in like five minutes, yeah?”

The kids are tired out from wrestling, sprawled out on the couch watching their cartoons as Zayn and Liam slipped away for a moment to get his suitcase. But they barely made it to their bedroom before Liam’s hands were latching onto him and guiding him back against the wall of the hallway like the bedroom was too far away to wait.

“I know,” Liam pouts, palming at Zayn's cheek to fasten their lips together again. "I’ve been fucking like, horny all day, babe."

Zayn chuckles, licking between Liam's lips. He can feel the hard of Liam's length every time his hips press against Zayn's thigh and can taste the soft sigh that he lets out every time he rotates his hips against him.

"Reckon that means you'll miss me this weekend?"

Liam growls out a moan, fingers tangling into Zayn's shirt to tug him into their bedroom.

"Send you dirty messages like I did back in Uni," Liam suggests cheekily, pinching Zayn's bottom.

Zayn rolls his eyes, latching his lips back onto Liam's. They are making no progress towards getting the suitcase that rests against the bed and Zayn's cock is starting to fatten with every drag of Liam's lips against his own.

"You did that like a week ago," Zayn reminds him with a laugh. He reaches for the coat hanging on the rocking chair closest to them to distract himself. "While I was at work too, bloody bastard -"

Detailed messages about how eager Liam was to get home and bend him over, promising him a rough fuck that had made it difficult to be quiet when Liam made good on his promise and fucked into him from behind, fingers pressing against his throat and teeth sharp against his shoulder. Zayn had been flustered at work just thinking about it, cheeks permanently red and fingers shaking as they slid paint across canvases.

Liam pouts, but he holds his arms out to let Zayn slip the coat onto him while craning his head forward to continue kissing at him. "You love me."

Zayn wrinkles his nose, tugging the coat on tight and pulling him closer, dodging his head some so Liam has to chase his lips. "A little bit."

His heart pounds against his chest, knocking on his sternum to bring his attention to his lie. There is not a word for the amount of love he holds for Liam -

"S'not even cold," Liam complains with a laugh, fingers tickling down his back to play with the brim of his jeans. He grins against Zayn’s jaw. "Feelin' kind of hot, actually."

Zayn snorts, resting his palms against Liam's chest to resist the temptation of cupping him through his joggers and satiate his need to feel the thick of Liam against his palm. "You insist on driving with the windows down and then complain nonstop to me that you're cold, and your nose gets runny -"

Liam groans, nipping his skin before he pulls away with a regretful look. "Okay, _Baba_."

“S’ my job to take care of you,” Zayn hums, smushing his lips to Liam’s for a moment.

“And I you, babe,” Liam whispers, rubbing a thumb against his jaw.

Zayn slides his hands underneath the jacket and around his back to stitch their chests together, grinning up at his husband. "Gonna stroke off t'night thinking about me?"

"Yeah," Liam breathes, cheeks flaming pink. "Just like in Uni."

Zayn laughs before he kisses Liam one more time before letting him go, because he is seconds away from demanding Liam stay home with his knees digging on the ground and making good on his suggestion of a blow job, convincing him not to leave for the weekend even though he knows it is important for Liam to go.

Liam grabs his suitcase, a small one that probably has like one shirt in it, knowing Liam and - "Did you remember socks, Liam? You always forget socks."

Liam stills, nodding his head with a guilty look in his eye before he turns around and heads over towards their dresser.

Zayn shakes his head fondly, knowing his face can perfect that enamored look just as well as Liam’s can.

++

Bashar settles between his legs, back pressed to his chest and a sketchpad balanced on his knees that he scratches a pencil against. Zayn watches from over his shoulder, every now and then taking the pencil from Bash when it is offered to him. Mahaad and Maira look on sometimes, when they are not glued to the cartoons on the television set.

With Liam gone for the weekend, it is the best time to draw something for him for a surprise. Bashar had been excited, begging Zayn to start the moment Liam had walked out the door, and practically swallowing his food whole during dinner since Zayn told him he had to wait until after.

“Okay,” Bash huffs out, studying the piece of paper in front of him. He has drawn the two of them, Liam and Bash, the back of them with their fingers linked together. It makes Zayn chest expand and he inhales softly, trying not to draw Bash’s attention but he needs to rid the tears swelling under his eyelids -

It has always been this way - how easy he tears up when he sees how much Bash and Liam love each other. It is different from the twins, though that makes his heart work overtime as well.

“Your turn,” Bash says, handing him the pencil. “Um… draw why you married my Papa.”

Zayn furrows his brows, chuckling softly. It is immediate, the way hundreds of different Liam things pop into his head but there isn’t one that he can pick.

He eases the sketch pad from Bash's fingers, pressing a kiss to his temple. "That is going to be quite difficult I reckon, babe. Maybe I can work on it while you sleep? See what I can come up with? Papa is ace, y’know -"

Bashar nods, climbing off of his lap and reaching out for Mahaad, not needing to be told that it is time to get ready for bed. “Okay, Baba.”

Zayn tries, resting against the mound of pillows on his bed after he has put the kids to bed. He thinks of Liam with flushed cheeks, clearly overwhelmed because he can't get Bash to calm down but never admitting to it, never getting frustrated to the point where he gave up. Or Liam carding fingers through his hair, gentling kisses to his skin to comfort him even though Zayn isn't good at admitting he needs it.

His laugh - the definition of joy, with his eyes crinkling shut and his mouth falling open. A sweet sound that warms Zayn no matter how he is feeling. His heart - which is why Zayn swears his chest is so broad, just to hold the size of it.

Zayn is half way through the drawing when he fully focuses on it, nibbling at his bottom lip out of habit as he takes in what he has drawn. Bashar sleeping on Liam's chest -

The first time he realized how much he was in love with the man with kind brown eyes who looked at Bashar the same way Zayn thought maybe Liam looked at him. On that old manky couch, fast asleep with Bashar cradled against his chest like he belonged there.

He draws - he draws until his hand aches and his phone vibrates constantly with drunk messages from Liam, who apparently took Louis out like Zayn had suggested. Until he has drawn through pages and pages and cusses quietly to himself because that means he has to buy Bash another sketch pad tomorrow, because Bash having to go without a sketchpad for a day will be a disaster.

Until his phone is ringing and dragging him out of his thoughts of full lips and gentle kisses, large hands covering his skin and a hard but pliant body on top of him -

"Hey baby," Liam says when he answers, voice slurring some. "Miss you."

Zayn snorts fondly, placing the sketch pad on Liam's side of the bed and curling into his own, phone clutched to his ear like he is in sixth form again and staying up late on the phone with his crush. (Because Liam never called him late at night, just showed up at his door step with snacks and a promise of a good cuddle.)

He can hear the distant sound of music and people talking, one voice distinctly Louis. It has been awhile since they have seen each other, and a bit of jealousy lingers in him because he wishes he could have been there too. He misses his best friend, even though they talk a few times each day.

"Miss you more," Zayn whispers, chuckling slightly because he always feels foolish when they have the more contest. Except, he always wins -

Liam snorts. "You have a house full of Malik's, I get to miss you more, Zed."

Zayn grins, chest expanding. He remembers when Liam suggested it, taking his last name. The way his eyes were bright and watery and his voice unsure because Zayn had mentioned getting the adoption papers to change Bashar's last name to Payne a few days earlier.

"Feels incomplete without you though, _Mr. Malik_."

Liam makes a soft sound that Zayn knows he smiles around - one of those big ones where his teeth dig into his lips and his eyes fall shut.

"I'll be home tomorrow, yeah? A little later though 'cause I'm going to stop 'round the other Malik house," Liam tells him. "Miss Mum and Baba -"

He hesitates for a moment and Zayn waits, holding the phone closer to his ear as Liam's voice drops into a whisper. "That's okay, right? Like, you're not cross with me because I forgot to remind you about this weekend?"

Zayn stiffens some, having completely forgotten about his irritation with Liam earlier today. "Erm, no Liam."

"You sure?" Liam goes on, genuine concern in his voice and Zayn can picture his face, eyes serious and brows pushed together. “You seemed it earlier.”

Zayn is about to tell him he had been at the time before he hears a loud voice in the background, feminine sounding and slightly familiar calling Liam's name. It is loud enough that the voice seems to be coming from someone close to him.

"Come on Liam, dance with me. I remember you love this song -"

Liam doesn't respond to them, just waits for Zayn to answer. He takes a while as he tries to figure out if Liam knows he can hear them. But he doesn't _care_ because an anger flames in his chest because he shouldn't be dancing with anyone anyway -

"Yeah," Zayn huffs out, rolling onto his back. "Have fun babe, I'm knackered so I'm going to sleep."

Liam hesitates, and Zayn hopes his tone is neutral and not betraying the worried way he feels. "Okay, I love you."

Zayn mumbles it back before he hangs up, leaving the phone on his bed as he climbs out of it. He grabs a pillow and drags his comforter behind him as he pads down the hallway to Maira's room.

The light from the moon shines enough through the window that he can see her sleeping form, lips parted around heavy breaths and hair fallen from it's bun, so it sticks to her cheeks and spreads out across her pillows. Her fingers are tucked underneath her cheek again, blanket tangled around her ankles.

He smooths a thumb across her cheek after he tugs the blanket up to cover her shoulders. He curls on the floor beside her bed, tucking the pillow under his head and ignoring the heavy thud of his heart as he imagines Liam on the dance floor, chest plastered to the back of another, fingers expanding across their belly -

Like in Uni, when Liam convinced him to go to a party and he had felt high off the feeling of Liam's hands pressed to his torso, his hard chest against his back and the way he insisted on keeping his lips pressed to Zayn's ear so he could sing all of the songs that played to him while he worked his hips against Zayn's bum like he was trying to convince Zayn to drag him home.

And as much as Zayn hated parties, he kind of wanted to attend every single one just to dance with Liam around a crowd of people again.

"Fuck," Zayn breathes out shakily, smothering his face into the pillow to ease the tension building in his face and threatening to spill past his eyelids. He knows Liam wouldn’t, but the fear grips at his chest anyway

++

“Hmm,” Bashar hums, sliding his fingers over one of Zayn’s drawings. He wrinkles his nose, staring down at the sketch of just Liam he had drawn the night before. His cereal goes ignored on the table, next to Zayn's mug of too strong coffee and he swears he has never missed Liam more because he Liam has made his morning coffee for so long it seems that he has forgotten how to.

"You love him because he has a hairy beard?”

Zayn snickers, carding his fingers through his son’s hair. He had accidentally (really on purpose) drawn Liam’s beard quite thicker than it is now. He had only had it that thick once, a long time ago during the winter and Bashar hated it, always squirming and fussing when Liam brushed it against his cheeks when he kissed him.

“I love every part of him,” Zayn tells him softly, reaching over to trace his finger against the paper like Bash is. “How kind his eyes are. Always happy smile -”

Bashar giggles under his breath, cheeks rounding even more around his smile. “You think he is cute or summat?”

Zayn barks out a laugh, shoving him playfully in the shoulder. His cheeks warm and he feels ridiculous because of it.

“Yeah, he’s fit or summat.”

Bashar wrinkles his nose in distaste before flipping the pages of the sketchpad again. He lands on the one Zayn had drawn of him sleeping on Liam’s chest. “And this one means you love him because he loves me? Or is this Mahaad or Maira -”

Zayn’s smile softens, his chest rattling with a shaky breath as he nods. He remembers when Liam had said something similar, trying to convince Zayn that a relationship would work between the two of them. _You love me, I know you do. And I’ll always show you that you can let yourself love me. I don’t want you to worry, because I love Bash just as much as I love you, maybe more and I know that may be one of the reasons you love me -_

“Did Papa tell you that?”

Bashar looks up at him through his eyelashes, a guilty look taking over his face. He nibbles at his bottom lip, eyes wide for a long moment. “Yeah.”

Zayn frowns, folding a palm over Bash’s reddened cheek. “What’s wrong, beta?”

He sighs, turning back to the drawing. “Nothing, I am making a surprise for you too, but it is a secret, okay?”

Zayn relaxes, nodding. “Okay, bub.”

“What’cha doin’?” Maira hums, climbing onto the couch and seating herself between Zayn’s legs. She glances at the drawing, eyebrows rising into her hairline and eyes going big. “Oh _wow_ , Bash.”

“C’mere,” Zayn interrupts. He uses careful fingers to try and pull the hair tie tangled in her hair. She squirms, fighting against the gentle tug of her hair as he eases it off.

“Baba drew it,” Bash tells her. He flips to the one of Liam. “And this one too.”

Zayn grins, pressing a palm to Maira’s scalp when he pulls off the hair tie. Her hair flops everywhere and she wipes it from her face as she takes in the drawing of Liam.

“Oh wow bhaiya, thas way gooder than the one Papa drew,” Maira tuts, giggling gently. Zayn peers around her as he scoops her hair into his hands, smoothing it against her scalp to pull it into a less sleep crazed bun.

“Shh,” Bashar hushes roughly. He glowers at her, closing the sketchpad quickly as her hands come up to cover over her mouth quickly. “Baba can’t know!”

Zayn hums, tightening her bun and pretending like he hadn’t heard anything. “What was that bug? I can’t know what?”

Bash’s cheeks go bright red. “Nothing,” he says, opening back up the sketchpad.

“Sowwy,” Maira whispers, getting close to his face to do so. She turns in his lap, reaching up to run her fingers through Zayn’s hair, which lies flat against his forehead. She brushes the hair back, giving him a considerate look before turning around towards the television. “Draw me and Baba next?”

Bashar looks at her for a long moment before he nods, scrambling off the couch to retrieve his pencils, probably. Zayn wraps his arms around Maira, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. She covers his arms with her own, resting back against his chest as she giggles at the toons playing on the television screen.

Bashar comes back into the living room with Mahaad trailing behind him, feet shuffling against the carpet and fists rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He holds Zayn’s cellphone, which he drops on Maira’s lap before curling up against Zayn’s side. He had made his way to Zayn’s bed sometime in the night, curling up in the comforter even though Zayn hadn’t been there. Zayn hadn’t wanted to wake him when he found him in the morning, because he wasn’t sure how long it took Mahaad to fall back asleep without him there.

“Papa call,” he yawns, snuggling closer to Zayn.

“Shh,” Maira whispers. “Gotta be still for Bash. He gon draw me and Baba. You too, if you want.”

Zayn curls an arm around Mahaad’s side, splaying his fingers out against his shirt to rub his back as he calls Liam back. Bash has a look of concentration on his face, back settled against the chair next to the couch and eyes flitting between his sketchpad and the three of them.

“Morning,” Liam says, the smile evident in his voice as he answers the phone. “Sleep alright?”

Zayn hums his response, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear to curl his arm back around Maira. “You, babe? Alright?”

Liam chuckles. His voice echoes like he is on speakerphone, and Zayn hears the sound of traffic that makes it a bit harder to hear Liam. “Bloody hungover, Zed. Tommo is worse than Niall, I reckon.”

Zayn snorts. Louis deems himself the professional partier, which is why he went into the business of _party planning_.

“They are even worse when together,” he says. Mahaad has crawled further onto his lap, resting his cheek against his sister’s legs. When they were babies, Liam and him used to be terrified to leave the twins alone in a crib together because Mahaad always had a habit of rolling as close to his sister as possible, sometimes rolling completely on top of her.

“Arseholes, they are,” Liam laughs. The speaker shuts off and his voice is louder in Zayn’s ear. “Found me a venue though, so I just have to run a few errands and then I’ll stop ‘round Mum's.”

“Already?” Zayn asks, glancing at the time on the cable box. “S’only nine.”

He clears his throat. “Erm - yeah, well time is money, babe.”

Zayn sighs, muffling it where he presses his lips into Maira’s hair. “Give mum a kiss for me.”

“Okay,” Liam responds. “And kiss my kids for me. Love you -”

“Love you too,” Zayn mumbles before hanging up the phone and handing it to Maira. She smiles big, opening up the Fruit Ninja app she is obsessed with playing. His heart heavies as his worries rush back to his brain, and he wishes he had more control over keeping them away.

++

Zayn slides his fingers over the back of Liam’s hand where it presses against the wall, eyes latched onto the shiny silver band that is wrapped around his ring finger. He had made sure Liam was wearing it the moment he came home, and guilt still lingers in his chest because he shouldn’t be worrying about it, he shouldn’t be doubting the man that has always unconditionally loved him.

Liam’s other hand is firm under his navel, pulling him down against him with a moan shivered out against his neck. Zayn moans back, putting more of his weight on his arm to brace himself against the wall as his legs quake with the way Liam grinds against his prostate. He works his hips against Liam’s cock, making a show of it as Liam stills behind him.

“So good,” Liam moans, mouthing at the curve of his neck. He squeezes their fingers before snapping his hips forward roughly, forcing Zayn closer to the wall.

Zayn grinds back against him, huffing out. Liam is going maddeningly slow, but his strokes are rough, Liam’s hips stinging against his arse and promising bruises for tomorrow and Zayn is kind of desperate for it.

“Then fuck me proper,” he grits out, arching his hips farther for emphasis. He turns his head some to see Liam over his shoulder, a grin on his lips and eyes bright as he continues to grind against him.

“Been waitin’ to get me dick in you babe,” Liam huffs out, mouthing the words against his skin. “Drove me barmy -”

Zayn’s laugh breaks into a moan as Liam dicks back into him gently. He can feel the energy pouring out of Liam under where his fingertips press into his belly, the urgency there that makes Zayn’s toes curl with anticipation because he knows Liam is a second away from giving him what he wants.

He cups the hand on his belly, dragging it down so Liam will get the hint to curl his fingers around his prick. He does, sliding up his length, moaning gently like he gets off on how hard Zayn is - how hard he is _because_ of him -

“Got me all wet babe,” Zayn whispers huskily, trembling as Liam tightens his grip. Liam had pressed him into the wall the moment they walked into the bedroom and stretched him with eager fingers and a quick tongue, spit dribbling down his thighs and just making him a proper mess - “Gonna make me come? Or I should pull off and do it myself? You could watch -”

Liam growls lowly, collecting the precome dribbling steadily out of Zayn’s prick with his thumb. Even if Liam is going slow, he is so close - being pushed to the edge and tore away from Liam’s teasing.

“Turn around,” Liam says, gripping Zayn’s hips roughly and dragging him back down onto his cock, contradicting his words.

Zayn lets out a breathless laugh, pushing past Liam’s hold on him to turn around. Sweat collects at his skin, flushed such a deep red that Zayn moans at as he slides his hands up Liam’s chest. His skin is like fire under his palms, burning his skin in a way he is addicted to -

“Wanna see you when you come,” Liam murmurs, leaning forward to whisper the words against his lips. His fingers slip behind Zayn’s sweaty thighs, lifting him up easily and guiding his back to press against the wall. Zayn curls an arm around his shoulders, slotting his lips with Liam’s as his prick nudges against his hole again.

Liam eases into him slowly again at first, moans rolling off his tongue and onto Zayn’s. But he changes up the pace without warning, hands gripping onto his back as he rabbits up into him, forcing rough gasps out of Zayn’s throat as he clings to his husband. He is ruthless in the way he fucks into him, causing fireworks to burst down his spine because this is what Zayn needed -

His prick drags against Liam’s belly, steady streaks of precome glossing up his torso as he nears closer. He shakes from the throb of pleasure running through his limbs and the litany of _Zayn_ s Liam chants out against his lips -

“Harder,” Zayn chokes out, sliding his fingers against the back of Liam’s head to tangle in his hair. He complies, his hips bruising against Zayn’s bum as he strokes harder, hips jerking in an uncoordinated way that signals he is close. He wants to ache afterwards, to feel the oxygen get stuck in his lungs so Liam will cradle him close like he always does afterwards -

“Good lad,” Zayn grunts out, nipping at Liam’s bottom lip as Liam’s eyes flutter shut. “Good boy -”

Liam’s face twists with pleasure, arms around Zayn holding him down on his cock as he pulses inside of Zayn with a rough groan against his lips. Zayn feels like he could break under the force of Liam’s hold on him, but it keeps him together instead as he shakes violently against him.

“Come on,” Liam urges, grinding into Zayn still. His jaw tenses, a groan rumbling in his throat as Zayn rotates against him. “Let me see you come on m’dick -”

“Tell me you love me,” Zayn breathes, working his hips off of Liam before seating back down on him. It is difficult, and he stills when Liam takes over and fucks up into him again.

“I love you,” Liam says tightly. “Love you so much -”

Zayn comes with a gasp, thighs tightening around Liam’s waist and his forehead pressing against his to keep him steady as he shakes with the force of it. White spots prick at the back of his eyelids and he is afraid his back might break with the force of the arch it takes as he attempts to grind back against Liam.

“Love you,” Liam says again, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Zayn’s parted lips. “Love you, love you -”

Liam presses Zayn’s sweaty back against the cool surface of the wall, easing out of him gently as he fastens their lips together. He kisses him urgently, tongue working past his lips to curl his moan against Zayn’s teeth. The feeling in his chest pours through the rest of his body, making his head fuzzy with how the steady way his heart beats Liam’s name makes him feel so lightheaded -

“Fuck, I love you,” Liam gasps, moving his lips to the tendons of Zayn’s neck. “I love you -”

Zayn tilts his head back against the wall, letting Liam’s lips explore his skin. He groans out praises, simple things like _so beautiful_ that scrape against his neck like a match against a striker, igniting a flame against his skin -

“Love you more,” Zayn breathes, cupping Liam’s shoulder as he slips his legs off of Liam’s waist. He stands on his tip toes, most of his weight supported by Liam’s hold on him. He knows Liam is aware enough of how insecure he gets to know why he needs to hear Liam say it, but he refuses to admit it out loud. "Love you  more, love you more -”

Liam stops his quiet chant, rolling his eyes like he is annoyed with him but the grin on his lips betrays him. “It is impossible to ever love anyone more than I love you.”

Zayn nibbles on his bottom lip, searching Liam’s face. It is genuine, forming that enamored look that makes Zayn feel so loved. “It is scientifically proven that my love for you far surpasses your love for me.”

“Oh yeah?” Liam asks, gripping his thighs again and tugging him away from the wall without warning. Zayn gasps out, legs curling around his waist to keep him from falling as Liam rushes him towards the bed.

He lets out a breathless laugh as his body hits the mattress. Liam’s covers his in a moment, fitting between his legs, arms bracketing his head and closing him in so he is surrounded by nothing but Liam -

“It is scientifically proven you are full of shit,” Liam teases, tangling his fingers in Zayn’s hair to tug gently.

Zayn quirks up a brow, giving him a look of disbelief. “Source?”

Liam chuckles under his breath, eyes heavy lidded and bright with fondness. “Liam Malik. Very credible, my daughter says her Papa knows literally everything. So you can trust it.”

“She is a little biased, babe,” Zayn chuckles, sliding his hands up Liam’s sweaty back. “Since you’re her favorite person and all.”

Liam warms, his smile softening before he presses a kiss to Zayn’s nose. “I think she inherited that from her Baba.”

Zayn snorts, turning his head to the side to feel Liam’s lips brush against his cheek. “It’s true, I do kind of fancy you a bit more than anyone else I know or whatever.”

Liam bites him gently, huffing out a laugh. The energy in his limbs has sizzled out, but warmth takes it’s place, prickling across his skin and relaxing the nerves that have been on edge since Liam left. He can tell Liam isn’t done, wired and still energetic and will probably be up for round two in a few minutes -

“Funny,” Liam hums, amusement in his voice. “I kinda fancy you more than anyone too.”

He pulls back and Zayn looks at him, trying not to grin at the mischief in his eyes but it is impossible when looking at someone as dorky adorable as Liam is. Eighteen still clings to him, despite the way his face has aged, though it is practically unnoticeable to anyone who doesn't spend the amount of time Zayn does looking at him, probably. Zayn can see it in how much deeper the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes have become, the laugh lines framing his lips. But there is still that young, full of life look in his eyes that Zayn first fell in love with -

“Oh yeah?”

Liam nods, licking his lips as his smile widens. “Maybe that means we should date or summat.”

Zayn groans at him, eyes clenching shut as he pulls Liam down onto his chest, making Liam’s face nestle against his neck. “Donut.”

“I’ll be really good to you,” Liam whispers, sliding an arm under Zayn’s shoulder like he is a pillow. Zayn closes his eyes, remembering when Liam had said those same words to him while laying on his chest before they started dating. The same feeling rattles in his chest, the same uncertainty, the same need for his words to remain true.

“I know,” Zayn whispers, massaging his fingers through Liam’s hair. “You always have.”

Liam pushes up, brows furrowing together as he stares down at him, the humor in his face turning far more serious. “And I always will, Zayn.”

Zayn tilts his head for a moment, taking in the man before him. He slides his fingers against his cheek, feeling the warmth that resides there even when his cheeks are no longer so pink.

“I know. Meri jaan.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Songs in this chapter are Habits of My Heart by Jaymes Young and Until The End of Time by Justin Timberlake & Beyonce ;D)

Zayn slides his hands down Liam's chest, smoothing out the dress shirt before sliding his fingers to the bow tie around his neck to undo it. There is a fond smile on his lips, because it is hardly a formal event, but Liam has a habit of always going overboard.

It is cute and Zayn is kind of in love with him for it.

"My kids are graduating," Liam mumbles, pouting his lips out when Zayn slides the tie from his neck. It is an expensive one, smooth to the touch and one that Liam had bought years ago for some important meeting regarding Patient Paws, that he rarely wears for anything but important events.

Zayn rolls his eyes, pecking Liam's lips because the urge to kiss him is too great to ignore. It always is, really, because Liam has an ability to be cute at all times and the feeling in Zayn’s chest because of it makes him feel like he is going a bit mad, really.

"It's only preschool babe."

And it is just a little ceremony to hype the kids up for primary and Zayn is pretty sure it is more exciting to Liam than the twins, who only care about the fact that summer camp is about to start up and they finally get to join _the big kids_. But Liam had to hide his tears behind the back of his hand when Maira and Mahaad showed them the caps they had made for the ceremony.

Zayn curls an arm around his shoulders, tugging him close. He still hasn't been able to muster up the strength to talk to Liam about how worried about his lying he is, and it has only gotten harder the two times he hasn't worn his ring while he had been gone all day since he came back from Wolver-Hampton a few weeks ago.

It's just, if he _does_ mention it and Liam confirms it, that will turn his world upside down. Everything has been built around the two of them, together. Their home, their careers, three little lives that he wants to protect from whatever effect the truth might have.

"You're cute, babe."

Liam hums, the corners of his lips quirking up. "Wanna marry me?"

Zayn pushes his smile against Liam's. He also can't him find it in himself because if he is wrong, which he thinks he is more times than not, it would be unfair to think Liam capable of that -

Because the definition of family man is Liam Malik. Liam has proven without needing to how dedicated he is to them, from wasting his college years taking on the role as father to a baby that wasn't his, to working two jobs and extra hours so they could afford babysitting while Zayn worked on his Master’s degree, to taking so much time off of work when Bash was in the hospital, which was the reason he lost his job and ended up starting Patient Paws in the first place.

Everything he does for them and why wouldn't he get tired of that? Zayn finds himself getting stressed sometimes, to the point where he is worried he might like giving up more, but Liam is always right there, keeping him sane through the sleepless nights due to work, hospital visits and babies, helping him set his mind straight because giving up really will always be the worst option.

What if Zayn isn’t as good at keeping Liam from wanting to give up?

He has been needy, asking Liam to tell him he loves him, constantly asking him at random times to say it, like when they brush their teeth at night or while Liam washes the dishes. Liam never hesitates, but he isn’t sure if it is making his worry less or his heart heavier.

“Sorry,” Zayn sighs playfully as he pulls away. “But I’m spoken for. Fit lad, but a huge dork. S’probably got on Batman briefs right now, covering his big ol’ cock -”

Liam shoves him gently, his eyes bright and just as playful as he fails at mock offense. “Sounds like a knob.”

“ _Do you_ have on Batman briefs?”

Liam gives him a shy look, shrugging some as he nibbles at his bottom lip. “Maybe. Gonna have to find out ye’self -”

Zayn snorts, tickling Liam’s tummy through his shirt. "Come on, or we are going to be late. Later though -"

Liam groans, wrapping his arms around Zayn and kissing him harder until he is satiated, pulling away with a teasing grin and his fingers dragging down Zayn's arm to link them with his.

 

Zayn's chest swells with fondness and pride as he watches Mahaad and Maira, both of them wiggling in their chairs as their teacher talks about the year they have had. Liam keeps a hand on his lower back, chuckling under his breath when Mahaad whispers something in his sister's ear and she scolds him, pointing to the teacher with her brows pushed together and her other hand pushing a finger against her lips to shush him.

Mahaad huffs out with a pout and Maira reaches over, linking their fingers on his lap, rubbing idle shapes over the back of his hand. Something she has learned from Liam, no doubt, who might just be the expert on idle touches.

They sit in a row between their other classmates, with square cardboard hats balancing on their heads. Maira wears the purple and green dress her Papa and her picked out, and Mahaad wears a mint green polo that is stained from breakfast this morning and Zayn swears none of the other kids here are even half as cute as theirs.

Liam presses his lips to Zayn’s temple and his fondness grows, because he knows Liam's chest is swelling like his own as they watch their babies listening to their teacher, fingers locked tight together. Maira has always been aware of the comfort her brother always needs, sometimes more so than Zayn, and he can’t quite put a name on the feeling in his chest because of it.

Mahaad puffs out his chest when his name is called, waving wildly to them as he walks up to the professor and receiving his _primary school ready_ certificate.

Liam wiggles his fingers in a wave as Zayn blows him excited kisses, doing the same when Maira follows in his wake, her smile just as big as she bounces on her toes and practically rips her certificate from her teacher’s hands.

They have a small party afterwards in their classroom and it is amusing as Maira makes Liam sit in her little blue, plastic chair. It makes him look giant, his barely there bum falling off the sides as she cuts up the mini sandwiches one of the parents had brought for him on the little table.

"Papa, snack time is my favorite time -"

“It was always mine too, beti.”

Mahaad drags Zayn away from them and to the table where he sits normally. He pulls out his sketch pad from the backpack hanging on the back of his chair and lays it out flat on the table in front of him.

"Bash been teachin' me," he says softly, flipping it open to show Zayn. "Coz I wanna draw with you guys."

Zayn ruffles fingers through his soft hair, smacking a kiss to his forehead because the swell in his chest gets a hold of his throat for a moment. His mum told him he would get used to it, the overwhelmed feeling his children make him feel but he hopes he never does.

"Of course you can, babe. You always can join us."

Mahaad looks up at him with bright eyes, biting around a smile. He looks so much like Liam it shocks him sometimes, that someone so little can hold as much joy in his face as his husband can, because even that seems impossible sometimes.

"Do you like ‘em?"

Zayn smiles big, nose wrinkling around it as he nods. He smoothes his fingers over the collection of doodles, some of them hard to make out but some of them distinct and repetitive, like Bash has been trying to teach him how to draw specific things like eyes and noses. His name is scribbled a few times as well, in big letters with the h backwards like he does, no matter how many times Liam and him have tried to show him how to write it correctly.

"I love them babe. Maybe you could draw some big ones for me so I can hang them up in Papa’s and my room? Right next to the ones Bash drew?"

That little grin grows more excited as he nods, cheeks pushing up and eyes falling practically closed. "Yeah, I can! Ms. Sofa said I'm like the next Pica - pica -"

"So," Zayn adds encouragingly, rubbing his palm to Mahaad's back as his cheeks burn red in frustration. "Picasso babe, you are. But who is Ms. Sofa?"

"Papa's friend."

Zayn frowns, watching Mahaad grab a pencil and start drawing, tongue poked out between his lips and brows scrunching together in concentration. Zayn opens his mouth a few times, trying to figure out which of the questions rolling around his head he should ask - which one would be less noticeable to a five year old that there might be a problem.

"Where did you meet her, babe? Um, Ms. Sofa?"

"Ehm," he says, dragging out the word and not looking up at Zayn but his eyebrows scrunch together even more. "Uncle Ni's res'raunt. Uncle Ni let me go into the kitchen for the firs’ time."

He glances at Liam, who now wears pink sunglasses that seem to be squeezing his face, and a tiny crown snuggled into the curls at the top of his head as he feeds pieces of sandwich to Maira. Dread pours through him, settling in his chest uncomfortably - a much different feeling than the normal one he gets when he watches Liam and Maira together.

"Is um," Zayn hesitates, scratching at the scruff on his jaw as he tries to figure out what else to say. He shouldn’t keep talking at all, really. And he _knows_ that - "Is Ms. Sofa a nice lady?"

Mahaad nods. "Oh yeah, she _always_ has candy f'me."

"Always?" Zayn blurts before he can stop himself. Mahaad just looks at him quickly, unfazed by his outburst as he indicates the drawing he just made.

"Beautiful, beta. Good job," he mumbles distractedly, ruffling Mahaad's hair again as tries to tell his brain to shut up. It doesn’t mean anything -

++

Zayn pads into the bedroom, his throat tight as he eyes Liam's back, the way his muscles dance as he hangs his dress shirt on their closet door handle. Tiny red nail marks cover his hips and trail across the back of his shoulders and Zayn knows those are from him, but there is a nasty twist in his gut at the idea of it ever being from someone else -

Liam looks over his shoulder when Zayn clears his throat and walks further into the room. Zayn has already changed out of his dress clothes from the ceremony and into something more comfortable as Liam took dinner shift and Zayn took bedtime shift.

"Alright?" Liam asks in concern, turning away from the mirror. He slides his fingers through the hair on the sides of Zayn's head as he presses a kiss to the top of it. Zayn’s fingers linger on his belly, gentle touches like the warmth of his skin can soothe the ache running through him. "Look tired, love."

Zayn leans forward, letting his head rest against Liam's bare chest. Liam doesn't hesitate to wrap his thick arms around his shoulders, holding him close like he knows Zayn needs it, and he probably does know. Liam has always seemed to know what he needs, even when _he_ isn't aware of what he needs.

"M’alright. Just - can you believe the twins are already going to be attending school?" Zayn mumbles against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats steadily against his sternum. He remembers the first time he saw them, tiny little things with scrunched up pink faces and the fattest cheeks he has ever seen. It feels like yesterday and so long ago all in one.

Liam hums, tickling Zayn's skin where his lips drag across his hairline.

"Having your mid-life crisis already?"

Zayn snorts, leaning back some to tilt his head up towards Liam's. "Quarter life, probably."

He searches Liam's face as he smiles weakly, seeing that same look he always gets whenever his eyes are on Zayn -

_Enamored_.

He hopes he isn’t just seeing that enamored look because he wants to but that the look is still there because nothing of Liam’s feelings have changed for him.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am, jaan."

Liam's smile breaks against his cheeks and he presses it to Zayn's forehead. "That's me, babe. Knocking on your door that day was the best decision of my life."

_And opening it was mine -_

"I love you," Zayn mutters, pushing out his lips so Liam will kiss him.

He does, after breathing _I love you back_ against them.

++

Zayn drags paint stained fingers from yesterday down Liam's torso, wishing the paint hadn’t dried so he could see the way the colors stain Liam's tanned skin. His lips follow in their wake, tongue rolling over invisible finger prints.

Liam sighs, fingers sliding against Zayn's jaw to guide him back up his body so he can slot their lips together. Their tongues dance against each other, in sync with the melody of soft exhales and whispered moans. A calm settles around them, the sun peeking through the curtains enough to make the room glow with the lazy feel of morning.

Zayn's body still feels heavy with sleep, but it wakes with the feel of Liam's hands sliding against his skin, the hard press of his chest underneath him and the steady thump of his husband’s heart trying to catch the rhythm of his own.

Liam has taken the day off because he has to leave again this weekend, so Zayn did too, having someone cover for him at the summer camp. The next few weeks are going to be busy, with Liam working on an adoption event, which he is pretty sure falls on the day of their anniversary but Liam really hasn’t confirmed his suspicions yet. And the festival the summer camp is holding for the families is happening in the same week. So Zayn just wants to spend as much time with Liam as he can.

"Mm," Liam hums, dragging his lips to the column of Zayn's throat. His tongue flattens, licking a stripe up his skin and Zayn shivers above him, hips rocking forward to meet Liam's. "I was going to wake you up with breakfast but I reckon this is a bit better -"

He whispers the words against his skin, his lips a soft pressure. Zayn wants to laugh, but he breathes out shakily instead, feeling Liam's hands slide lower down his spine, fingers tickling at the waistband of his briefs.

"I'm much more filling," he jokes, rolling his hips so his clothed cock slides against Liam's hip.

Liam quirks up a brow, resting his head back against the pillow when Zayn looks down at him.

"Yeah? Wanna fill me up or summat -"

Zayn makes an overwhelmed sound before arching forward to kiss his husband. He traces his tongue across his bottom lip, licking into his mouth to curl against his teeth. Liam sucks on his tongue softly, making him groan low in his throat -

He grabs Liam's wrists to pin his hands above his head, intertwining their fingers as their hips rock against each other. A desperation jolts through him, pulsing out through his fingertips to make him grip tightly against Liam’s skin.

"You know, we’ve been together almost ten years," he breathes, nudging their noses together as he mouths at Liam's lips. It feels impossible that it has been that long, but at the same time it feels impossible that so much has happened within that amount of time - which is nothing close to forever.

Liam groans, tongue flicking out to chase Zayn's lips but he pulls back, adding pressing to his grip around Liam's wrists.

"Best ten years of my life," Liam says, a grin on his lips and mischief in his eyes but a promise in his tone -

"You're going to have to spend another ten with me, you don't have a choice."

"Thirty or no deal," Liam shoots back quickly, eyes blowing out wide when Zayn grinds his hips forward again.

Zayn giggles, nipping at his bottom lip. "Deal."

He stretches Liam slow, dragging it out to watch the way Liam squirms on the bed, skin flushed and fists in the sheets, savoring the impatient huffs of breaths and the overwhelmed look in his eyes.

The way his cock twitches where it lays heavy and swollen on his belly, glossing the skin of his navel every time Zayn works his fingers a little deeper.

He mouths at the inside of Liam's thighs, enjoying the way they tremble when Zayn curls his fingers, the tips rubbing against that sensitive area. Sweat collects at Liam's brow, his lips parting as he tries to watch him and it is breathtaking -

"Fuck," Liam shivers, glancing at where his phone starts to vibrate on the night stand. Zayn grins, dragging his smile against Liam's skin, breathing over his balls before mouthing at the other thigh -

(It is amazing he has had ten years of _this_ and it still feels as overwhelmingly good as the first time.)

"Gonna ignore it," Liam huffs out, fingers sliding across the back of Zayn's head as he gives up on trying to keep his hands resting above his head. "Come on babe, need your dick in me -"

“Yeah?” Zayn huffs out, quirking up a cocky eyebrow. “How bad do you want it, babe?”

Liam makes a frustrated noise, adding pressure to the back of his head. “Want me to beg for it? I will -”

Zayn’s eyes flutter shut as he groans, nuzzling his nose against Liam’s skin before he pulls it into his mouth, sucking at his skin until it bruises a pretty shade of red. He will, Zayn knows. Liam has never been shy about begging for it, while Zayn would rather bite his lip practically off before he does.

The phone rings again and Liam pushes up on his elbows, shaking slightly as he reaches for it. Zayn pulls his fingers from Liam, smoothing his hands down Liam's thighs before he settles back on his calves, watching his expression to make sure it isn't one of the camp counselors on the phone.

"Can I call you back? Balls deep in dad stuff, you know how it goes," Liam says through clenched teeth as Zayn curls a hand around himself and nudges forward, knowing Liam wouldn't talk to anyone important like that. Niall or Harry, maybe Louis. And they have made Zayn hear them fuck about enough times that it sometimes seems like a game that Zayn is always willing to play -

He can hear the response through the heavy thud of his heart, a familiar feminine voice that changes his mind about just _teasing_ Liam while he is on the phone enough to make it obvious of what they are doing.

The possessive feeling in his chest because of it is uncomfortable, but he wills it away before it can make him feel sick.

"Soph -"

Zayn grabs Liam's thighs, tugging them to his waist as he pushes forward, eyes intent on the way his cock looks slipping between Liam's cheeks. He tries not to think of the name that has been haunting his thoughts leaving Liam's lips.

Liam cups a hand over his mouth, brows pushing together as Zayn works his cock into him. He hears her speaking again, and it surges an anger through him that makes him even more uncomfortable.

"Just text me please," Liam says tightly before ending the call and tossing the phone to the end of the bed quickly.

Liam curls a hand around the back of Zayn's neck, tugging him forward as he works himself deeper.

"Cheeky," Liam mutters, breathing out harshly against Zayn's lips. "What if that was me mum or summat?"

"Balls deep?" Zayn repeats, thrusting forward a little roughly until he has bottomed out. “Bit rude to say to your mum, innit?”

Liam grins with parted lips, grinding back against him to get him moving again. His fingers rub encouragingly at the back of his neck and Zayn wonders if he can feel the tension in his muscles there, the same tension that slides down his back and  wraps around his thighs.

“A bit rude, yeah,” he chuckles under his breath, cheeks flushed and dark eyes dropping to watch the way Zayn’s tongue flicks out against his bottom lip.

“Lay back,” Zayn whispers against his lips, his fingers sliding down the back of Liam’s thigh to hike it up his waist.

He falls back against the mattress, fingertips digging into Zayn's hips as he strokes forward, slowly building up to a fast pace that makes Zayn's skin sting from the smack against Liam's, their moans coming out hiccupped and choked sounding -

Zayn muffles his against the column of Liam's throat, teeth digging into his skin before pulling it into his mouth, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Liam shakes underneath him, fingers skating up his back as he rolls his hips back to meet each stroke.

He moves higher, sucking a mark under Liam's jaw and another, a bit lower. He stains his skin with mouth shaped bruises, hoping they purple obscenely and last the whole time Liam is gone. For anyone to see - he doesn’t care at this point, as long as she sees them if she is there. He wishes he could make them permanent, ink a symbol of _mine_ onto Liam’s skin that he can’t remove whenever he wants to.

"Zayn," Liam moans sharply, the sound indicating he is close. Zayn is too, from the way Liam feels wrapped around him, the arousal burning in his belly that is fueled by the anger rushing through him and the possessive marks reddening on Liam's skin. "Do my - _ah fuck_ , my chest. Do my chest, babe?"

Zayn shivers, moving his lips to the dip between Liam's collarbones, strokes uncoordinated as he pulls the skin there into his mouth. It is a sensitive area for him, always has been and the sound he lets out consumes Zayn.

Liam stiffens underneath him as he comes, thighs tightening around Zayn to hold him in place as he grinds forward, trying to coax as much pleasure into Liam's body as he can. He feels possessive, a strength building under his palms as he grips onto Liam like he wants to burn his touch onto his skin permanently, but the crescent shaped marks from his nails and the fingertip shaped bruises will fade after only a few days.

He rolls a tongue over the purpling mark on his chest, peppering kisses to his skin that are apologetic out of habit until Liam is dragging his face back up, pressing their lips together and muffling the moan Zayn lets out as he comes.

Liam smacks kisses to his lips, grinning as Zayn breathes heavily, his chest aching from the way it rises and falls so rapidly, or the pain that consumes it he isn't sure. But it fucking hurts -

"Okay?" Liam breathes, scrunching his brows in concern. His palms rub against the side of his head soothingly, and it makes the whole situation worse as Liam tries to comfort him even though he is the one causing him pain.

Zayn nods, his throat tight as he eyes the marks he made on Liam's skin that shouldn't make him feel smug and possessive in the way that it does. He always gets a bit jealous, when people check Liam out too noticeably or touch him in ways that have to be flirty, with soft giggles and fingers grazing against his arm or puffed out chests and a cocky brow. But this - this is different.

He actually feels like he has a reason to be jealous this time.

"That um, breakfast? Kind of um like, hungry now."

Liam looks hesitant, but he kisses him again, just a soft drag against his lips before Zayn carefully pulls out of him and rolls onto his back, allowing Liam to escape from the bed.

“I love you, Zayn,” Liam murmurs before he pads out, waiting for Zayn to say it back before he actually leaves the room.

He stays there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as he fights off the tears slipping down his cheeks and clogging up his throat. Something vibrates on the bed and he ignores it, trying to listen to Liam, who had flicked on the television in the living room - a music channel that is definitely not helping -

_The habits of my heart, I can’t say no, it’s ripping me apart, you get too close - you make it hard, to let you go -_

His heart races when he realizes that it is Liam's phone that is vibrating and he stiffens, battling between grabbing it and reading whatever _Soph_ had to say that is so important she had been resistant about letting Liam get off the phone, or just dying here where he lays -

Battling to check Liam's phone has never been a problem for him before, because they both use each other's as if it were their own. He shouldn't feel guilty, because Liam would probably do the same if it were him, right?

Zayn ignores the no, because _Liam would actually communicate properly with him_ , and pushes up to stare at the phone as it lights up again. He can just make out her name from where he sits and _fuck_.

Liam has it set so the message pops up instead of just the word "message", and he doesn't hesitate, doesn't think about how guilty he feels for snooping because he doesn’t trust Liam when his eyes make out the word 'hotel' -

His heart pounds against his ears as he looks at the screen, reading over the _booked the reservation at Christopher's for 8 is that alright?_ And _the hotel is two blocks away, real nice, even has a jacuzzi like you asked for...._

The phone screen goes black before he can decide if he is going to read what else the hotel has, and he drops it back onto the mattress, not wanting to read any more of the messages that come through, just staring at it blankly. The tears in his eyes build rapidly, making it so he couldn’t read the messages even if he wanted to -

Heis going to be sick. Christopher's, that was where Liam had taken Zayn after he proposed during graduation to celebrate because it was the nicest restaurant around their campus, in Wolver-Hampton, where Liam is traveling to _tonight_.

And a hotel -

The thought of Liam being there with someone makes his skin crawl, and it feels like there is a pressure pushing against him from all sides, attempting to break his limbs and push out the oxygen in his lungs. It is frustrating, the way his mind tries to put all the pieces together but he can't, his brain just floods with hurt and it makes it too hard to concentrate on one thing.

It just - it has to be what he is thinking, because why would Liam keep this from him if he wasn’t doing any wrong?

He drags himself out of bed, padding to the bathroom attached to their bedroom, hoping a scalding hot shower will burn away all the bad he feels and clear out the emotional thoughts so he can focus enough on the rational ones.

 

Liam comes in after awhile, with the bathroom filled with thick steam and the streams of water pelting into Zayn's back as he stands still underneath the showerhead. He can see Liam's blurry shape through the glass sliding door and can almost make out the song he hums softly over the sound of the water.

"Can I join you?" Liam asks after a moment, tapping on the glass and Zayn finds it too difficult to respond so he doesn't, only turns around when the door slides open and Liam steps in.

Liam's chest is cool against his back, his hands soft when they cradle his hips. Zayn can't help but lean into his touch and his eyes close as the tears slip out, mixing in with the water from the shower head. _The habits of my heart, I can’t say no_ plays over in his head and he wants to laugh at himself, but his throat feels like sandpaper -

It doesn't make any sense. It doesn't - Liam _wouldn't_ go on a date with someone else, especially not at their restaurant. Liam wouldn't go on a date with anyone else, period, but Zayn can’t imagine that Liam would be cruel enough to cheat on him at a place that holds a significance to them -

But nothing is impossible. He has heard people say how marriages always fall apart after so many years, and with his luck it is probably seven. And Liam keeps _lying_ about it -

Yet, he hasn’t asked him directly about it, so maybe it is something else. Something that is reasonable, something his mind isn’t capable of seeing.

"Zayn," Liam murmurs, sliding his arms around his chest and Zayn clings onto them with a tight grip, letting Liam rock him gently back and forth. He can hear it in his husband's voice that he knows something is wrong.

His skin has reddened from the hot water and it only adds to the numbness he feels. The heat has made him too tired to think anymore. He doesn’t want to think anymore, really. Not about this.

"I love you," Zayn says softly, voice loaded with just _how much_.

"I love you," Liam responds without hesitation, lips pressing to his temple. "I love you so much, babe."

"As much as you did when we married?" He asks quietly, leaning his head back against Liam's shoulder.

He regrets his words when Liam turns him around, fingers sliding through his wet hair and serious eyes searching his face, taking in the swollen look of his eyes and the tremble of his lips even though Zayn had been trying to keep him from realizing he is crying.

"My love for you has only gotten stronger," he promises, eyebrows pushing together and a pained expression taking over his face. "What are you going on about?"

"Quarter life crisis," he blurts out, surging forward to settle his chin against Liam's shoulder because Liam won't push him to ask why he is choking out sobs, but will only hold him tight until his chest stops bracketing with them.

"Come on," Liam mutters, shutting off the water when Zayn’s breathing has calmed and fallen back into something closer to normal. "Breakfast is waiting. Burnt the potatoes a bit um, they should still be good though."

He links their fingers to guide Zayn out and he tugs a towel from the towel rack next to them to wrap around Zayn's shoulders when he steps out of the shower.

"Need a kip, I think. Not hungry," Zayn says, gripping tight to the towel. Liam gives him a worried look as he walks off towards the bedroom.

 

He can’t fall asleep, but can only lay there instead as the hours tick away maddeningly slow. Liam joins him in bed, staying quiet beside him with fingers grazing against his skin and worried eyes flicking between the book in his lap and Zayn. His touches are hesitant enough that Zayn knows he is worried Zayn is upset with him.

After awhile he presses his lips to Zayn's shoulder, muttering something about having to pick up the kids from summer camp. He waits for Zayn to respond but he doesn't, and he listens to Liam sigh before he climbs out of bed and gets ready.

He waits, listening for the truck door to shut and the sound of the tires against the pavement before he pulls himself out of bed and drags himself to Bash's room.

Bash had asked him to draw a few more things for him, including a sketch of his wedding band and something to resemble his and Liam’s first date. And drawing has always helped him clear his mind when he felt he was unable to talk about what was going on with his thoughts.

He settles back into his bed with the sketchpad, letting the glide of the pencil against paper clear out his brain. He isn't really sure what is considered their first date. If it was the time Liam showed up at his door at midnight with takeout and a baby lullaby tape because Bash had kept Zayn up the past two nights and he had heard Bash’s crying through their thin walls.

And Bashar ended up falling asleep after only a few moments after being placed on Liam’s chest and it was the first time Zayn really thought fuck his stupid rules about dating because Liam had looked so overjoyed at the fact that he was able to comfort Bash enough to fall asleep.

Or if it was their first _proper_ date, with a picnic basket filled with PB &Js and samosas, because Zayn couldn't stop talking about having Liam try his mum's and they weren't nearly as good but Liam watched with wide, worried eyes as he ate them so he pretended like they were the best he has ever eaten. And a throw that Liam knicked from the back of his matty couch that had to be thrown away after because Bashar wasn't as good at pretending he liked them.

Memories of Liam over the last ten years rush through his mind, one after another and it makes his stomach twist because never before has his heart felt pained when he thought about them, or what makes Liam _Liam_ -

How tender he is, putting all of the love his heart holds into the fingertips he constantly grazes against his and the kids' skin, like he wants to always make sure they feel it. How selfless he is, clearly bothered by Zayn's standoffishness but not pressing for him to explain because he knows when Zayn shuts down it takes him awhile to open back up. Patient - really, with him and the kids, his job and everything that comes his way. Just an overall good man and Zayn has never understood what he has done to deserve someone as good as him.

Zayn's phone ringing makes him jump, having been so lost in the full shape of Liam's lips that he sketches out. He grabs for it, the tears starting to brim at his eyelids the moment he sees his Mum's contact picture.

"Mum?"

"Hey my sweet boy," Tricia starts, her voice gentle and Zayn knows right away Liam has called her. He is picking the kids up and taking them out to spend some time with them before he leaves for the weekend, and to probably give Zayn some alone time.

"Beta," Yaser follows up, his voice a lot tougher sounding in contrast to his mother's but it is hard to miss how gentle he speaks too. "Alright?"

Zayn sniffles, resting his forehead against his knees to feel like he can cradle himself. "Yeah, m'alright."

"What is it, sunshine?" Tricia asks, and Zayn imagines them in the living room, huddled over the phone with worried looks on their faces and it makes him grin slightly. They had been worried about Zayn moving out of town when Liam and him had just married, because their couch had been his favorite place to feel better, wrapped in his parents' comforter with a full belly because his mom believed food was the cure for sadness.

"I don't know, Mum," he mutters quietly.

"How about this," Yaser goes on, also aware of the way Zayn struggles to open up. "Come up one weekend or summat with my grandbabies and that husband of yours and take a load off. Get actual food in you, the poor kids probably forget what that tastes like -"

"Yaser, shh," Tricia scolds in the background like she pulled away from the phone so Zayn wouldn't hear and Zayn smiles again, wiping the tears collected at his cheeks. "But yes, honey, bring the family up and let us take care of you for a few days. Being home will make you feel better."

"Okay Mum," Zayn whispers. "Liam will be up there this weekend."

"Oh good," Tricia says excitedly. "I'll give him a ring and have him swing by, give him some samosas to send your way."

"That boy will probably eat them all on the ride home," Yaser mumbles with a sigh.

Zayn chuckles, a warmth spreading through him. "I love you."

"Love you too, beta."

++

Zayn scrambles to hide the sketchpad when Liam's headlights flash across the bedroom. He hides it in the nightstand beside his side of the bed, making a mental note to give it back to Bashar before he asks for it, to surprise him because he had told him that he would work on it tomorrow.

Liam walks through the door, Mahaad asleep on his chest and Maira's feet shuffling against the carpet. Zayn takes Mahaad from him, comforted by the way his baby wraps his tiny arms around his shoulders automatically. The little boy has always been a cuddler, constantly on top of Zayn whenever the opportune arose -

(Which is always basically, because Zayn has never been able to tell him no when he asked, unless he was truly just too busy, but those occasions were rare because Zayn never found himself too busy for any of his children. And he craves to be cuddled too, reaching out for him before Mahaad gets the chance to do it himself.)

His hair is wet like Liam’s, whose curls cling to his forehead. His shirt is littered with dark spots from the rain pelting against his shirt and he shivers against Zayn, his soft exhales coming out shaky as he sleeps.

“Go change into your 'jamas, beti,” Zayn mutters to Maira after she kisses her Papa goodbye. “And brush your teeth!”

"Niall is outside waiting to take me to the train station," Liam explains tiredly as she pads off, her fingers curled around Bash’s palm. He cups a hand around the back of Zayn's head hesitantly and Zayn goes with it, allowing Liam to kiss him. It is just a hesitant brush of Liam's lips against his own and Zayn feels just as unsure about it.

“Do you have to go?” Zayn asks quietly, peering up at him to take in his sad expression. Regretful more like, and his heart sinks into his stomach before Liam nods his head.

“It’s important babe,” Liam says softly, pulling him close so the only thing between their chests is Mahaad’s sleeping form. “Is that why you’re upset? I’m really sorry -

“No,” Zayn says quickly, shaking his head and cutting Liam off. He rests his cheek against the top of Mahaad's head, teeth digging into his bottom lip to keep his tears at bay. _It’s important -_

Liam looks unsure, brows pushing together and lips pouting. He presses a kiss to Mahaad's hair before pressing another to Zayn's.

Niall honks his horn, making Mahaad jerk against Zayn and Liam pulls away. "Love you, babe. I'll ring when I get to Wolver-Hampton."

Zayn nods, rocking Mahaad against him as he watches Liam leave.

++

Zayn jolts awake as a crack of lightning sounds above him. He groans, rolling onto his back as he reaches blindly for his phone to check the time. 1:15 -

He pushes up from the floor after a moment of trying to wake himself, checking that Maira is still asleep before he makes his way into the hallway. His back aches and there is a crink in his neck that pressure from his fingers can’t seem to alleviate.

The house is pitch black, especially where there are no windows in the hallway and Zayn keeps a hand on the wall to help guide himself to the boys’ room. The rain is loud against the rooftop, and there are only a handful of seconds between each rumble of thunder.

He frowns when he spots the empty bed, comforter missing and sheets dragged onto the floor. Mahaad isn't in Bashar's bed either, where the oldest boy sleeps with his limbs spread out and face crumpled. Zayn carefully opens the closet door to find nothing but the normal boxes of toys that are in there.

He doesn't panic at first, not until he has looked in the bathroom, the linen closet, the laundry room and practically every nook and cranny in the living room. It floods through him when he walks hurriedly into his bedroom, eyeing his empty bed and empty bathroom. He forces a long inhale, trying to rid the feeling of his lungs being squeezed tightly.

"Fuck," Zayn gasps out quietly, clenching onto his phone as he bends down to peer under his bed just in case Mahaad has crawled underneath. His mind is racing with what ifs, like if he went through the back door and wandered away into the woods behind their house, or worse, the front door that leads to the _street_ -

It is then he hears the whimpers, between the cracks of thunder. He breathes out in relief, tip toeing over to his closet where he can see a bit of Mahaad's Batman blanket peeking out. The lingering panic makes tears prickle at his eyes and he swallows them down before he reaches for the closet’s door handle.

"Mahaad," Zayn coos, opening the door. He sits in the corner under where their sweaters hang and Zayn has to squat down to see him underneath. He has the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and one of Zayn's old hoodies clenched between his hands.

"You weren't here," he whimpers as Zayn climbs into the closet, ducking his head down to sit beside Mahaad. Mahaad doesn't hesitate to climb into his lap, letting go of the comforter and hoodie to tuck his arms between Zayn's chest and his own instead. "I came in your room and you and Papa not here."

Zayn slides the unbuttoned sides of Liam's blocky red and black plaid shirt he wears over his trembling back, cocooning him against him. His bare back is coated in sweat but his skin is cool to the touch.

"Papa is at Gram's, remember," Zayn tells him softly, trying to keep his voice calm. He feels guilty - awful, that he couldn’t be there when Mahaad was scared. "And I'm sorry babe, I was sleeping in Maira's room."

His son doesn't respond, only flinches when more more thunder shatters the silence. It is quieter in the closet, muffled but Mahaad still trembles.

"Can we stay here," Mahaad hiccups, nuzzling his face against the shirt.

Zayn sighs. The sound of rain against the house heavies and he hopes the sound is as soothing to his boy as it is to him. "Yeah babe."

"And call Papa and tell'im to get home?"

Zayn stays still for a long moment before he nods and reaches for his phone. He keeps an arm curled around his back as he goes through his phone, the light blinding his eyes in the dark.

It rings for only a moment before Liam answers, like he had been waiting for Zayn to call.

"Hey babe," he says, voice soft and awake. There is a hesitancy that remains there still. “I’m glad -”

"Hey Papa," Mahaad whimpers, voice starting to water again.

"Hey buddy, what's wrong?" Liam's voice softens even more and Zayn closes his eyes shut and moves the phone closer to Mahaad. The tender way Liam talks to their kids makes his heart feel like it is cracking in half.

"Thunderin'," he mumbles, the tears slipping from his cheeks and onto Zayn's chest. Zayn tightens the arm around his back, wishing the trembling in his body would calm.

"Oh no, not again," Liam coos softly. "Want me to go tell the storm clouds to knock it off?"

Mahaad nods his head, sniffling again and Liam is quiet for a long moment.

"Where's Baba?" He asks as Zayn is getting ready to tell Mahaad that Papa can't see him so he has to talk.

"Wimme."

"You snuggling him close?"

Mahaad nods again, sliding his arms around Zayn's back underneath the shirt and squeezing tightly. Zayn smiles some, hiding it in Mahaad's hair.

"Yes, Papa."

"Sleepy, bub?"

Mahaad hums his response and Zayn rests his cheek against the back of his head, rocking him gently as the thunder sounds, farther away this time. Liam stays on the phone, humming a familiar tune - the one he used to sing whenever the kids were babies to get them to calm down when they were fussing.

“I love you, Mahaad,” Liam says quietly. Mahaad mumbles it back against his chest, words quiet as he is half asleep.

Zayn turns the speaker off, bringing the phone to his ear as Mahaad heavies, chest rising and falling steadily as he falls deeper in sleep.

"Sorry for calling so late," he whispers, wishing Mahaad's arms were still squeezing around him so he can feel like he is being held together.

"S'okay," Liam says quietly. "Wasn't sleeping. I figured Mahaad would wake up."

Zayn stays quiet for a moment, wondering if this would be what life is like if anything were to happen - having Liam comfort the kids over the phone rather than be curled beside him as they do it together.

He swallows thickly, frustrated because it has never been hard to hold a conversation with Liam, but now he can't seem to find anything to say.

"I'd like to know what's going on," Liam starts hesitantly, like he is unsure if he is allowed to bring the subject of Zayn being upset up. "You know you can like, talk to me about it, right?"

This time it is Zayn who nods instead of speaks, lips pressed tightly together. And Liam knows, because he doesn't wait for Zayn to respond.

"I love you jaan."

Liam exhales into the receiver when Zayn doesn't respond, his voice coated with pain that makes Zayn feel like a knife is slipping through his lungs.

"Can you say it back, please? You didn't say it earlier and you - you always say it back."

Zayn nods, eyes clenching shut. "Love you too," he says quietly, voice watery as the tears slip down his cheeks.

++

Harry holds the door to his house open for him as he trucks in the kids, a smile on his face that make his dimples poke out as he tickles his fingers against their cheeks. They are all still clad in their pajamas, because Zayn had dragged them out of the house the moment they were finished eating their breakfast and he was finished with his fourth cup of coffee.

"Got wine?" Zayn musters, laughing weakly. He feels a bit crazed, having stayed up the whole night with Mahaad wrapped around him. His back aches from the way he had been positioned in the closet before he managed to move them to his bed and he feels like a zombie of sorts, shuffling his way around, limbs dragging. The exhaustion is almost as heavy as his thoughts.

Harry snorts, amusement in his eyes. Zayn needs to talk to someone, and he knows Louis will just laugh the moment he says what he is thinking, and his parents love Liam so much he doesn't want to tell them anything when it is just speculation.

And he can’t talk to Liam because - well, just the idea of it makes him feel like he might throw up.

"That kind of morning?" Harry jokes, following him inside. He flicks the telly on for the kids and Zayn promises them they will be right back before he heads for the kitchen. _Grown up talk_ , he says quietly to Bash when he watches them walk away with big eyes.

"That kind of week," Zayn sighs, dragging a palm down his face. He leans back against Harry's kitchen counter, debating how to get the words out because he hasn't even spoken them yet and they already taste sour.

Harry's amused expression fades away, brows pushing together in concern. "Is it Bash-"

Zayn shakes his head quickly. It is understandable that he would assume that, because the last time Zayn felt this shitty was when he had found out that Bash needed surgery on his esophagus.

"Liam," he says thickly, crossing his arms against his chest and tucking his fingers under his arms just to feel like he isn't crumbling apart -

"I um? I think he is seeing someone. Like, romantically or summat. Like, um -"

His words break off as his heart jumps into his throat, making him physically unable to say _cheating_ out loud.

Harry stares at him for a moment, face void of expression before he blurts out a laugh, shaking his head and Zayn scowls at him.

"Have you been drinking already?" Harry chuckles before his face falls stern.  "'Cause I'll kill you if you drove here with even a drop of alcohol in your system, mate. I’m not joking -"

Zayn squeezes himself tighter. He should have just called Louis, because at least he wouldn't have to see his expression - the same amused one Harry is wearing and it makes him feel stupid. "And I'm serious."

"No, you're takin' the piss. For what reason, beats me -"

Zayn shakes his head, eyes clenching closed as he debates whether or not to just leave. It had been hard to drive here with the way his fingers shook around the steering wheel and his eyes kept tearing up, blurring the road in front of him.

Harry looks half confused and half amused as he stares back at Zayn, but the amusement slips when Zayn's stupid lip starts to tremble again.

"That's daft," he says in disbelief, brows pushing together. "I would believe Liam was just invited to tea with the Queen, or that he made friends with an alien that he traded the twins for before I believed he cheated on you."

"What the fuck," Zayn balks, feeling the tears coming back. He already feels stupid enough. "This isn't a joke."

Harry sighs, closing the space between them to wrap his arms around Zayn. "I'm sorry it just - I'm serious, dude. That is the closest thing to impossible that I've ever heard."

Zayn pulls away from Harry's grip, wiping at his cheeks because he is tired of crying and he doesn't want one of the kids to see if they come in.

"It is possible though, Haz. Marriages fail after so many years or whatever."

Harry snorts without humor. "Yeah, maybe. Marriages between other people, but not you and Liam. You two are like, I dunno, different. Always have been."

Zayn shrugs. "I always thought so."

"You are," he insists firmly.

Harry listens to him without interruption as he tells him about Liam lying about where he goes, and Sophia and not wearing the ring. He mentions the messages and the more Zayn talks, the worse Harry's expression gets, which doesn't help his whole not crying thing.

"So like, can you ask Niall? 'Cause he has taken the kids a few times while -"

"No," Harry interrupts, face even more serious now. "Niall would kill Liam, seriously. It has to be something else. I mean I will ask him, yeah. But he wouldn't be down for that, Zed. He _runs_ the Zayn and Liam relationship fan club."

Zayn just shrugs. He really hopes so.

"I mean, Liam just told us you two were going to start looking into having another baby," Harry goes on, distressed as he drags his hand through his hair. "Doesn't make any proper sense."

"Maybe he just said that so I wouldn't catch on to the fact he doesn't -"

Zayn bites his lip, shaking his head at himself. He can't even think the words, or consider maybe Liam's feelings have changed because it makes the pain increase tenfold.

Harry softens his expression before he reaches into a cabinet under the counter and produces an old tin can that Zayn is more than familiar with. He wiggles his brows, gesturing for Zayn to take it.

"Clear your mind, bro. I'll watch the kids. I told Bash I would kick his ass in that Quidditch game you bought him."

Zayn narrows his eyes as he opens the lid and inhales the sharp, potent scent. "Be nice to my boy. Let him win."

He pinches a bud between his two fingers, holding it up to look at the reflect of greens and purples in it as Harry sighs.

"I won't even have to try."

++

Zayn nibbles on his bottom lip, anxiety running through him like it always does when he is in a large, congested crowd with the kids. He should have asked someone to watch them so he could pick up Liam from the train station by himself, because he keeps thinking he has lost Maira, knowing her energy spurts usually causes her to run, or her love of scaring people could convince her to hide from him.

Bash holds her hand tightly though like he is afraid of the same thing, following beside Zayn and Mahaad as they make their way to Liam's drop off. They are a little early, just in case his train comes a little early. They haven't spoke much since the night he left, only for Mahaad, because it is awkward because he can tell Liam is concerned and he feels like he is breaking.

"Lotta people," Mahaad tells him in his ear and Zayn smoothes his palms up the little boys back. The crowd is a blur around them, white noise mixed in with the steady rumble of trains. "Too loud."

"I know babe," he says softly, cradling him closer. It is not that loud really, but he tells Mahaad to cup a hand over his ear if it is bothering him. He has always been sensitive to loud noises, even the music from the stereo at home.

He spots Liam as they turn the corner towards his drop off, finding the back of his head in the crowd of people easily. Gray joggers hang loose on his hips, his black shirt stretching tightly across his shoulders. He fidgets with the snapback propped on his head, and his other hand reaches towards a woman beside him.

Zayn watches Liam, watches the way his hand presses against the small of her back. The smile on his lips before he kisses her cheek. Pain grips at his chest when he laughs at something she says and drops his hand.

"Is that Ms. Sophia?" Zayn asks Bash, surprised that his voice actually works because it feels like his throat has turned to sandpaper. She is beautiful really, just like the girls Liam used to date before him, or the girls that used to make him feel sick with worry and jealousy back in college. And she is familiar enough that she could be one of them -

Bash looks, pushing up on his tip toes to see over the crowd and nods immediately.

Zayn guides them back around the corner they just came from, settling on a bench there as he tries to catch his breath, and so Liam won't see them. "How do you know her, beta?"

"Papa and her picked me up from school once," he says, plopping down next to him and tugging Maira to sit beside him. "When we went to the park with Uncle Ni."

Zayn looks away from him, resting his cheek against the top of Mahaad's head and wrapping his arms tightly around him. Mahaad squeezes back as if Zayn is just giving him a hug, and that makes the tears push harder against his eyelids.

He had been trying to convince himself that Liam hadn't gone away this weekend to be with her, and it had been _close_ to working.

But now it being confirmed makes him nauseous, throat tight from the feeling and he considers leaving the train station just to calm down, but he hears Liam's soft and excited _hey_ -

Mahaad struggles against Zayn's grip as the other two hop off of the bench to run towards him. He doesn't feel the same excitement and that hurts almost as bad as seeing Liam with her.

Liam gives him a hesitant look, eyes wide as he presses his lips to Bashar's forehead.

"Babe," he says, reaching out to touch Zayn's elbow and he goes with it, allowing Liam to press a kiss to his cheek because there are three pairs of wide eyes on them. He holds in his flinch, struggles with not shoving Liam into the crowd walking behind him.

He pulls back, diverting his eyes from Liam who keeps his planted on him.

"Come on," Liam says as he wrangles Maira over his shoulder as she giggles like mad. He growls like a monster and Zayn smiles weakly, tangling his fingers with each of the boys.

It is awkward in the car as they drive home, the silence heavy between the two of them. He feels Liam's eyes on him constantly, and hears the difficulty he has in keeping his voice light when he speaks to the kids.

It is still quiet as they get the kids out of the car, Maira's arms wrapped around Liam's shoulders both of the boys stitched to his sides. Zayn trucks in slowly behind, eyes latched onto his world.

"Go on," Liam mutters, tapping Mahaad's shoulders so he will walk inside. "Wash your hands. Papa has got a surprise."

He puts Maira down and she scurries off behind them. Liam drags a hand down his face before looking at him and Zayn stiffens, eyeing the pale skin wrapped around his thick finger. Not again -

“Where’s your ring?” Zayn blurts out, voice breaking as he stares at the bare finger again as his hand rests beside his hips.

Liam looks down at his hand before looking back at him, eyebrows crumpling together. “I gave it to Bashar. He said he wanted to draw it for a project he is doing for camp or summat.”

Zayn can’t tell if he is lying anymore, because he is torn between his brain and his heart. He clenches his eyes closed, trying to calm the tears in his eyes because Bashar had him draw his ring for Liam's anniversary present so it is possible -

But Liam's date at Christopher's, not telling him he was going to be with Sophia, not wearing his ring, the unfamiliar perfume, it is just too many variables -

“Baby,” Liam says softly, cupping his hands on either side of Zayn’s face and he flinches when their skin touches, not afraid of hiding it anymore. He can smell that same fucking perfume again and it makes him even more nauseous.

Liam’s hand drop instantly, a broken look crossing his features. “Can you please tell me what I did -”

“Has he had the ring all weekend?”

Liam looks even more frustrated, his own eyes watering because of it. “Yeah? I gave it to him before I left on Friday.”

Zayn shakes his head, pushing away from Liam as his hands wrap around his chest. He feels a bit frantic, words bubbling out before he makes the conscious decision to leave.

"I'm - I'm going to go for a walk."

Liam's fingers clasp around his wrist like a reflex before he lets them go a moment later, expression softening. "Yeah, okay."

 

He ends up pushing through the glass doors to Niall's bar and restaurant, knowing the way it feels almost as much as home as his house does will comfort him. And it is early enough for the bar section to be empty but Niall won't be too put off about making him a drink.

"Zaynie!" Niall greets the moment he walks in from where he wipes down the bar. "Liam said you were headed over."

Zayn shuffles over, hopping onto a stool in front of Niall. "Oh yeah?"

Niall grimaces, staring at him for a moment before he bends down and pulls a bottle onto the counter. "Look like shit, mate. Could use a drink, yeah?"

Zayn shrugs. He feels like shit, having cried out the last of his tears as he walked here. He knows it is obvious in how swollen his eyes feel, his lips raw from chewing at them. And in the shake of his fingers as he reaches for the glass Niall passes him.

"One of those Zayn things again?"

Zayn quirks up a questioning brow in Niall's direction, cringing as the strong taste of alcohol seers down his throat. It makes his head spin instantly, since it has been so long since he has had a drink. He prefers the lightheadedness of a high, thick smoke burning against his tongue instead of the burn down his throat.

Niall grins, leaning in front of him. "Y'know, when you get all weird and shit and start doubting how much Liam loves you."

Zayn swallows the rest of the liquid in his cup instead of responding. He clenches his eyes shut, shaking off the tension that results from the burn. Niall is just as bad as the Louis and Harry, or maybe worse since that is borderline offensive.

"Harry told me, ye think he is cheating or summat. And you're mental, dude, let me tell ya. The lad has been talkin' me ear off, worried off his ass about what he did wrong. If he was cheatin', I reckon he wouldn't be so confused."

Zayn passes him his glass as he lets out a long breath. Niall has a point - a good point that he can't deny how much sense it makes, but it only frustrates him more. Because everything makes sense, just not when he puts it all together.

"You're right," he sighs, dragging his shaky fingers through the mess that is his hair. "Can I get another -"

Niall sighs, reaching for the bottle again as his other hand twists nervous fingers through his hair. “If Harry can drive you home," he says, pouring into his glass. “And you talk to Liam before I tell 'im what's going on meself. Hate hearin’ him upset.”

Zayn nods, swallowing his guilt down. "I don't want to hurt his feelings -"

Niall passes him the glass again. "'Cause you know it's shit, mate. He'll clear your doubts and you'll feel better. Easy solution. Trust me on this one, lad. It's all in your head."

Zayn nods, throwing back the liquor. His mind feels fuzzy, not at all clear in the right way - but maybe a little liquid courage is what he needs to finally tell Liam what is wrong.

"You're right," he sighs, sliding Niall the glass.

"I know," Niall laughs, reaching over the counter to mess his hair. "I've known Payno a long time, mate. There's nothing he cares about more than you and the wee ones."

 

An hour later, Zayn walks into the house, the smell of _burnt_ filling his nose instantly. There is a loud gasp from Maira from the kitchen before she says not so quietly, "Quick! Baba's here!"

He had planned on going to his room and hiding under the covers as a way to avoid everything until the kids were in bed and he could talk to Liam, but that brings his attention to the kitchen. He shuffles in, going still when he walks through the entrance.

Smoke pours off the stove and into the overhead fan where Bashar stands, a frown on his face and Liam with a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him as he moves the pot off of the burner. Flour covers the counters, piles of it on the floor like it had been spilled, and there are tiny flour handshapes covering the fridge, Liam and the kids.

Maira stands tall in the middle of the chaos, a big smile covering her face as she latches her hands behind her back and puffs out her chest. Her dark curls are pulled into a big a bun at the top of her head and covered in flour. "Baba, we cooked you dinner."

"And smoas," Mahaad chirps from behind her, eyebrows raised and wiggling in excitement.

Zayn snorts, not trying to fight away the smile that takes over as he rubs the food clinging to the bottom of his mouth away.

"Only because Mahaad ate all the ones Papa brought home," Bashar snickers as he peers into the oven.

"From your Mum," Liam tells him sheepishly, with big hesitant eyes at the same time as Mahaad screams, "Mai ate 'em too!"

"Nuh-uh," Maira denies, hands instantly going to her hips as she pushes her nose into her brother's face.

Mahaad's brown eyes go wide as he reaches out for Zayn. "Just want to make you feel better, Baba."

Zayn smiles softly, plopping a kiss to the corner of his mouth as his fingers tickle under his armpits. "I'm alright beta. I'm sure what ever you've er - attempted to make is delicious."

It isn't a lie, really. The way his children always seem to make everything feel better, even if for just a moment, has always been overwhelming to him. He has become dependent on it, and it has never let him down.

Bashar huffs out a sigh. Flour covers his arms and there are finger shaped marks on his face like someone had dragged flour across it. What looks like orange sauce is splattered all across the front of his white Batman shirt. "I burnt the chutney."

He points to the smoking pot on the stove and then opens the oven with an oven mitt on his right hand. "But Papa did a good job on the chicken fried chicken."

Liam gives a hesitant look, shrugging his shoulders some. "It's your favorite but um, I might have let Mahaad have a go at the seasoning and er -"

Zayn snorts, glancing at Mahaad who grins proudly with his chest puffed out. "What'd you put on it?"

Mahaad's expression crumples into something pensive before he shrugs his shoulders. "I dunno."

Zayn props him down back on his feet with s laugh, placing a kiss in Maira's curls and then one to Bash's forehead. He hesitates, fingers shaking noticeably as he cups them behind Liam's neck and pecks at his cheeks.

"Thanks babe," he whispers, giving him a soft smile.

Liam’s nervous look fades away, relief washing across his features. "We can talk later?"

Zayn shakes his head, letting his voice fall just as quiet as Liam’s had been. "It's dumb. Just forget it."

Liam doesn't look so sure, but the alcohol didn't give him the courage he wanted it to and his buzz is already starting to fade. Niall had been right, Harry had been right - he is just going through one of those _Zayn_ things again.

He helps the twins with the samosas, which proves to be difficult and they don't get much done as Mahaad can't keep his fingers away from the potatoes and Maira keeps breaking off pieces of pie crust to crush between her fingers. For why, Zayn has no clue -

The chicken comes out decent but Liam struggles with the smile on his face as his skin burns red and his eyes water. Mahaad makes a face of disgust and Zayn is sure half of the meal goes onto the napkin on his lap rather than his mouth even though Zayn has told him over and over again not to do that because it always falls on the floor.

They settle on the couch afterwards, throwing the dishes in the sink with a promise to clean them later. Liam keeps his fingers in Zayn’s hair, pressing their temples together as they watch Toy Story with Maira between them, Mahaad’s head in Liam’s lap and Bashar curled up beside Zayn.

Liam’s lips press against his temple and Zayn can feel more than hear the hum that vibrates from his lips.

He turns towards him to scrape his lips against his cheek, earning a soft smile from Liam before his lips are on his. A soft pressure, a gentle slide of his lips before they are gone and he turns back towards the television.

Liam falls asleep before the kids, and Zayn gently untangles himself to carry each one to bed. Bash is too heavy, and it is a process getting him to bed but he messes smiley kisses to his cheeks to get him to wake up enough to climb into bed.

“Thank you for dinner,” Zayn mumbles as he lays his head against his pillow. He presses a kiss to his cheek, fingers pushing the curls away from his forehead. “Love you my sweet boy.”

“Love you more,” Bash mumbles tiredly, his dark eyelashes expanding across his cheekbones as they flutter shut.

Zayn tiptoes into the living room, eyeing Liam, whose skin glows from the screen as it plays over the credits. He digs his knees into the couch on either side of Liam's legs, easing himself onto Liam's lap and sinking him farther into the old cushions.

Liam's lips quirk up before his eyes open, his palms coming up to rest against Zayn's lower back.

"Put the kids to bed," Zayn whispers, curling his arms on the back of the couch behind Liam's head.

Liam's eyes flutter open and he rubs his hands up Zayn's back lazily. "Sorry for falling asleep."

Zayn shakes his head before resting it against Liam's shoulder. "You've been working so much. I'm sure you're proper tired."

Liam doesn't say anything for a minute, the only sound filling the room from the television and the heavy thud of his heart.

"Are you sure that's not what's been bothering you?"

Zayn presses closer to him, thankful that he can hide against Liam's neck instead of face him. It feels like his heart just jumped up into his throat because he doesn't want to think about how silly he has been lately.

"No," he says quietly. "I was worried about Sophia."

Liam doesn't react like expected, only slides his hands further up his back to tangle his fingers in the hair at his neck.

"Sophia?" He asks in confusion.

"I told you it was dumb," Zayn mumbles, pressing his lips to Liam's skin. "Thought maybe - I dunno what I was thinking, really."

Liam's fingers slide against the back of his neck to rest there. Zayn is thankful he isn't pulling him up to face him, because the tears have already started to well at his eyes and he is frustrated because he is tired of them. And he hates them even more this time because they are because of himself, because he hates that he lets himself get like this all of the time.

"I don't understand," Liam admits quietly. "She has just been helping me with this event -"

Zayn sighs, tightening his grip around him. "Just dumb Zayn things."

Liam moves then, shifting so his fingers catch on Zayn's jaw to tug him up to face him. Those warm brown eyes search his face, lips pouted before his palms cover Zayn's cheeks.

"I love you," Liam says, managing to sound just as soft as he always does despite the firm way he says it. “And the only people I love more are a part of you.”

Zayn leans into his palm, milking in the warmth that his skin provides.

“And I have never wanted anything else. Nobody else.”

Zayn brushes his lips against Liam’s, hoping to comfort the serious look his expression has formed, and to comfort himself. “Except another baby.”

Liam grins, eyes brightening his expression. “Or seven.”

Zayn curls his upper lip in disapproval. “Killin’ me Payno.”

Liam’s grin grows as he curls his arms around Zayn’s shoulders and tugs him back to his chest. He rocks him gently, lips pressing to the side of his head. It is the comfort Zayn has needed to make him feel better, even if there is a little voice in the back of his mind telling him to keep worrying about it. He feels small against Liam, trapped against his chest and it soothes the ache in his heart, the numbness that has crept through his limbs over the weekend.

“How you feel is never dumb, babe,” Liam whispers. "I wish you wouldn't feel that way, but I understand. I'll just show you you don't have to worry, just like last time."

"Last time?" Zayn asks, nuzzling closer to Liam's neck. There have been so many times he has doubted Liam, it is hard to know which one he means -

"When you thought Sophia and I were seeing each other in Uni," Liam yawns, head leaning back against the couch. "Remember? You wouldn't kiss me for like a week, it was torture."

Zayn hesitates, trying to remember. "The girl who always showered at your place?"

Liam chuckles tiredly. "Yeah, lived with the girl with purple hair?"

"Wanted to date you?"

Liam groans quietly. "She did not," he denies softly, pressing his laughter to Zayn's forehead. But Zayn can remember her now clearly, the always bare of her shoulders and the deep dip of her collarbones, that chocolate colored towel she used to always have and loved wearing it the most in Liam’s apartment.

And that one night in Liam's flat, when Bash was spending the night with his mum because he had talked her ear off about Liam and she wanted him to spend time with him. Sophia had been all over him and Liam was either too drunk or too polite to shove her off. Not that Zayn should have expected him to, since they weren’t _Zayn and Liam_ yet. They only shared quick kisses here and there and lingering touches that Zayn always tried not to think too hard about but always did.

"She did," Zayn grumbles. Liam had kissed him hard on the mouth in front of her a few days later, pressed against his apartment door with Bash in his car seat by their feet after Zayn voiced his confusions about Liam dating her. Zayn had told him he felt stupid about it because he thought maybe there was something going on between Liam and him, even if he hadn’t wanted to put a word to it yet.

"Fixed her bathroom for you," Liam laughs, pulling his head back to look down at Zayn.

Zayn pecks a kiss to his lips. He pouts, letting out a sigh that does little to ease the guilt twisting in his gut. "How can you love me when I'm so difficult?"

Liam closes his eyes, resting his head back against the couch. "Not that hard, baby. You remember our wedding song, yeah? My heart belongs to you, babe.”

Zayn rests back against his shoulder, lips pressed over where his pulse beats steadily against his skin. “Even if I don’t take care of it as well as you take care of mine?”

Liam tilts his head so his lips rests against Zayn's forehead, arms curling tightly around his back. “Nothing makes me happier than you babe. I will compile a list of things you have done to prove to me that my heart is in good hands and email it to you in the morning.”

“Shut up,” Zayn mumbles, grinning slightly against his skin. “But I’ll be waiting for that email.”

++

Mahaad sighs dramatically before resting his fist against his cheek as he stares down at the paper laid out in front of him. Zayn watches as he glances at Zayn before sighing loudly again. A few times, and Zayn has to fight off the grin forcing its way onto his lips.

"What's happening, beta?" Zayn calls over, looking away from where he helps another one of the campers with their decoration for the festival. It is in two days, and it is all any of his campers or fellow counselors have been able to talk about. Zayn is excited for it, but he is also excited for it to be over.

Mahaad sighs even louder, drawing Maira's attention from a few tables over. She frowns, glancing between the two of them before going back to her work. Making sure Zayn has got it, no doubt, since she will be by his side if Zayn wasn’t already on his way.

Zayn pads over, bending down to balance on his toes as he looks over his shoulder. There is one stick figure with a large circle for a head, and a scratch of red where the torso would be.

"Help me?" Mahaad asks, wiggling the red crayon in his hand.

Zayn curls his hand around Mahaad's smaller one, guiding it back to the paper. "What are you drawing?"

"Papa," Mahaad says quietly, his golden brown eyes big as he watches the way the crayon shapes out a shirt. "He taught me how to draw him."

Zayn snorts out a laugh. "He is going to be really happy when he sees this. Proper chuffed, babe."

Mahaad pushes against his hand and Zayn eases his grip, allowing him to take control as he draws a circle in line with the stick figure Liam's head.

"And then I draw my Baba," Mahaad tells him in a sing song voice, drawing a thin smile at the bottom of the circle.

Zayn smiles too, pressing it against his little boy's temple.

Mahaad hesitates before drawing over the smile, making it even bigger. "Gotta be bigger, Baba, 'cause you always smile like this with Papa."

Zayn guides his hand back to the smile, making it even larger. “And this is how I smile when I’m with you.”

The boy giggles, sinking back against Zayn’s chest before he continues to draw. Zayn watches on fondly, forgetting for a few moments that there are other kids in the classroom. There is something so captivating about them - the three of his kids, and there always has been. Zayn could watch them for hours and overdose on the feeling he gets in his chest as he does.

He likes to take in all of the little details, captivated by them all. Like the freckle on Bashar's nose and the one at the top of his ear, the thick of Mahaad's eyelashes and the way they always flutter against his cheekbones when he laughs, the way Maira always twirls a finger through her ponytails, her hair becoming much lighter - golden, as she gets older.

The way Mahaad's nose wrinkles as he frowns, staring at the paper before he starts drawing again and how much he looks like Liam when he does it -

"Baba," Mahaad mutters as Zayn starts to move away because there are twenty kids in this age group and only one other staff member is in the classroom with him. His lips are pushed into a pout as he looks up from his drawing. "Is Clark with Bashar at the hopital?"

"No," Zayn says slowly, running his fingers through the thick hair at the top of his head. He had drawn a dog besides the third stick figure, who Zayn assumes is Bash. "He is only visiting his doctor for a physical so he can play footie, remember? Not the hospital."

Mahaad shrugs, eyes still nervous. He had been too young to remember Bashar in the hospital, but he still gets the same nervous look on his face when any of them have to go to the doctors. A side effect of Zayn’s worry, he fears. “Okay, but won’t Clark be sad ‘cause he not there wit'im?”

Zayn smiles softly, bending down on his knees to be eye level with his son. “No, because Bash is wicked healthy and we are going to bring Clark to all of his footie games and his tail will wag super fast.”

“You sure?” Mahaad doubts. His eyebrows raise up high into his hairline, just like his sister’s always do.

"You'll see him at lunch," Zayn says with an encouraging smile. He tickles his fingers under Mahaad's chin, chuckling slightly. "Chicken nuggets today. You're favorite."

 

Zayn frowns, glancing around the part of the field where the picnic is being held. He spots Mahaad and Maira with their group, Maira's arm curled around Mahaad's shoulders as she whispers something to him. He is pouting, fists tucked under his chin and chicken nuggets going ignored on the plate in front of him.

He considers going over there, but he knows Mahaad looks like that because Bashar is no where to be found. Not even with his age group a few tables over, or in line at the picnic tables. So instead he heads over towards the staff table, where the counselors for the older age groups and the non assigned counselors sit. Including Bash’s counselor, Andy.

"Andy," Zayn calls, frowning at him. Liam had met Andy when they had first moved here, having brought a toddler Bash to the park one day where Andy and his daughter were. He had helped Zayn get his job at the summer camp and he is a nice lad, but Zayn is considering flipping the table over and demanding to know why Andy didn’t bother to tell him that Bashar never showed up to camp.

"What's wrong?" Andy says quickly, brows furrowed as he takes in Zayn's hard expression. His thick blond hair is pulled back into a bun, but it frizzes out slightly from being outside all day. He leads most of the outdoor activities, like footie and tug of war.

"Where's Bashar?" Zayn huffs out, dragging fingers through his hair and glancing at where he holds his phone in his other hand. No missed messages or calls.

Andy’s worried expression breaks as he grins and shakes his head some. He pushes out of his seat and claps Zayn hard on the shoulder. “I’m sorry mate, I thought you knew. Leemo called and said Bash would be staying home today. I figured since Liam knows how you worry, he would have told you -”

Zayn stares at him, sucking on his bottom lip as Andy continues to talk. His worry hasn’t lessened any, and he excuses himself to call his husband.

Because Andy is right, Liam _would_ have texted or called because he knows how worried Zayn gets.

It rings a few times before Zayn hangs up and calls again. He rests against the brick building of the school, knee propped and foot flat on the wall as he calls for a third time. The fingers of his other hand twist eagerly in the material of his polo, above the brim of his pants, trying to shake off the buzz that runs through him.

He lets out a shaky exhale before he calls Liam’s office phone. This time it picks up after only a few rings and Zayn huffs out, his words coming out rushed as they drag the nerves settled inside of him out with each word and each gasped breath.

“Liam are you okay? I tried calling four times and I’m sorry if you’re at work but I was a little worried when Bash -”

“I’m so sorry to cut you off, but Liam is not in the office,” a female voice interrupts quickly and Zayn’s lips snap shut, words cutting off instantly.

“Sorry, but what?” Zayn gasps, pressing a palm to his forehead and thumbing at his temple. “Did he call out or -”

“No, he is here,” the woman says with an amusement in her voice that Zayn doesn’t like. “He is just in the kennel with his son. I heard his phone ring a bunch of times so I figured it was important -”

“Who is this?” Zayn coughs out, his body tensing before she responds because he knows the answer.

“My name is Sophia. I can bring the phone to him if you’d like? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind -”

Zayn rolls his eyes, trying not to let his brain wander into too dangerous of a place because Liam had assured him there was nothing between the two of them and he has to trust Liam. And, if she is answering his office phone, then she could very well work with him like he had said -

He has been suggesting Liam get a secretary for practically a year now because he gets too overwhelmed during meetings and paperwork days and it would be better for his stress if he just hired someone to help him out. And he has always been shit at organizing things in his office and Zayn is no better.

“Yeah, I just um, work at Bashar’s summer camp and was concerned about why he did not show up today.”

Zayn closes his eyes, putting his foot back on the ground to bounce on his toes because he feels kind of petty, lying about who he is. But he ignores that, instead focusing on the way relief flushes through him that Liam and Bash are at Patient Paws. He should have expected that, really -

“Oh okay. Just hold on one moment.”

Zayn paces as he listens to the background noise on the phone, lips pressed tight because he doesn’t want to blurt out the things he still has doubts about to this woman he doesn’t know. And it would be embarrassing on Liam’s part, and he is _trying_ to work on his jumping to conclusions thing.

“Hello?” Liam says suddenly, pulling Zayn’s attention back to the phone. “This is Mr. Malik.”

“Mr. Malik,” Zayn repeats, lips quirking up some as that possessive feeling returns to his chest. It makes him feels smug and normally he would roll his eyes at himself, but right now he embraces it. “I’m cross with you.”

Liam chuckles softly. His voice is less professional when he speaks a second time and tinted with fondness and amusement. “And why is that, Mr. Malik?”

“Care to explain why my son isn’t here at summer camp? I don’t reckon you’ve decided to spoil him since you know he hates the doctors.”

Liam groans softly, his voice falling into a whisper when he speaks again. “I couldn’t help it. He wanted to see Clark and he had to get blood drawn. You know I hate it when he cries.”

Zayn smiles softly, leaning back against the wall again. He used to take Bashar to get ice cream every single time they left the doctors when he was little and Zayn used to be terrified that his teeth were going to rot. “I know. How is he? Alright?”

“Yeah,” Liam sighs, the smile evident in his voice. “Just fine. Doctor said everything is great, perfectly healthy. Bash, c’mere!”

Zayn smiles bigger as he listens to Liam give Bashar the phone with a whispered _it’s your Baba -_

“Hey Baba,” Bashar says through harsh breaths, his breathing uneven like he had run over towards Liam. “I’m playin’ tug of war with Clark, Papa said it was okay ‘cause he is all better now.”

“Yeah? How are you feeling, then?”

“M’alright,” he promises. “Doctor Katie said I’m big and strong. Stronger than Papa.”

Zayn huffs out a laugh. He drags fingers against his jaw, scratchin at the scruff there, wishing he was able to run his fingers through his son’s curls or against his skin, just to feel the warmth there that assures him of the steady flow of blood through his veins. “Did Papa cry when you had your blood drawn?”

“ _OH_ yeah,” Bash exaggerates, his eyes probably going wide with it. “But I told him s’okay ‘cause big kids don’t get scared.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk up even more as he imagines how Liam responded to that. Probably feigning offense and making a dramatic show of wiping his tears. “I have to head back to work, but have fun with Papa and Clark, okay?”

“Okay,” Bash pops out. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” Zayn says quickly before he hands the phone back to Liam. “I should probably get back to work, tell Mahaad that Bash is okay.”

“I didn’t even think about that, m’sorry,” Liam mumbles apologetically. “Tell him Bash will be home when you guys get back, to make him feel better.”

“Okay,” Zayn hums, pushing away from the wall to make his way back to the field where lunch is held. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

Zayn hangs up and shoves the phone back into the pocket of his khaki’s before he makes his way through the picnic tables. The chatter from the large group of people around them falls to static, into distant white noise as his children come into focus. He embraces the tunnel vision.

He kneels on the side of the picnic table where Mahaad sits, his plate close to being empty now. Zayn smiles softly, ruffling his fingers through his son’s hair. “Beta, you worried about Bash?”

Mahaad looks at him, his eyes widening a bit. “Yuh.”

Maira peeks from around him, sliding a chicken nugget onto his plate as she nods too. “I told him he is okay. Bash tol’ me that he as strong as Thor, Baba.”

Zayn snorts. "That's right, babe. All Malik's are strong, yeah? The Super Family?"

He raises his arm, bulging his muscle with a tight fist as both of them nod. Mahaad curls his arms and rests them on the table after shoving his plate away. "Like the Incwedibles?"

Zayn pushes his lips to Mahaad's forehead, chuckling breathlessly. "Exactly. Just like the Incredibles.”

 

Maira clings to Zayn's back, her lips at the back of his neck as she tries to muffle the sound of her giggling. He holds on to one of her legs as he fumbles with the door to keep her steady on his back but it proves to be difficult. Her knees are scraped from the footie game a few of the groups played, and Mahaad has dirt smeared across lime green shirt and down the side of his khakis because every time he went to kick the ball, his foot flew way over it and he would topple to the ground.

(And giggle every time and Zayn is pretty sure he did that just to appease his sister, whose brows would draw together in concern whenever he fell.)

"Go on," Zayn instructs when he gets the door open. Mahaad bounces in, eyes bright because he had promised them they could stay up and watch the Incredibles if they didn't give him a hard time about baths tonight.

"Shh," Mahaad says with a finger pressed to his lips and eyes wide in alarm. Maira's giggling quiets even more as she pushes up to peek over Zayn's shoulder and into the living room where her Papa is.

Liam has his head resting on his arm, which is tucked between him and the arm of the couch, his mouth open wide around his snores. They are loud compared to the quiet sound of the television, which plays an old football game that Zayn recognizes as one he had recorded of Liam’s team back in Uni.

Bashar is curled between him and the back of the couch, cheek resting on Liam's chest as it rises and falls slowly, a loose arm thrown over his middle. Liam's fingers lay tangled in his hair like he had been brushing them through as he fell asleep.

Zayn watches them, his smile growing as he bends down to let Maira off his shoulders. That feeling of _in love_ makes his heart feel like it is trying to break through his sternum.

He pads over, biting around his grin. He slides his fingers over the ones in Bashar's hair before bending down to brush his lips against the corner of his husband’s. Liam swallows thickly, lips falling shut and brows stitching together but he remains sleeping.

Zayn tip toes away, a finger going to his lips as he nears the twins. They mimic him, shoulders arching forward as they tiptoe down the hallway with Zayn for their baths.

++

The washing machine rattles against the floor, echoing off the walls and muting the sound of the laundry room's door opening. Zayn's skin is sticky with sweat from the dryer and the warm clothes he folds. Night time is his favorite time to do laundry, the heat and the sounds that make him sleepy and no worrying about the kids barging in and getting dirty fingers on clean clothes.

He had planned on doing it a few days ago, but with Liam being gone he hadn’t bothered. The kids have enough clothes to go weeks without cleaning any, except Maira is a bit attached to a purple shirt with Mike Wazowski on it that she got from Doniya for her birthday. And Zayn usually wears more of Liam’s shirts than his own, like now he wears a gray tee with a stretched out collar and hangs loosely around his shoulders. It had been the last one in Liam’s shirt drawer and his own are a little too tight around Liam’s shoulders -

"Kids are down," Liam murmurs, making Zayn jump as his fingers slide against his hips and his lips brush against his cheek.

Zayn picks up Bash's shirt that he dropped, leaning back against Liam's chest. "Bash too?"

He looks over his shoulder to see Liam nod before he ducks his head down to scrape his lips against his shoulder.

Zayn drops the shirt again to turn and plaster his chest to Liam's. Liam doesn't hesitate in cupping his jaw to fasten their lips together. It is lazy, the way Liam kisses him. A gentle pressure, a soft glide of his tongue, a hum vibrating against his throat. He presses Zayn a little closer to the dryer, making warmth layer his skin.

"He had a long day," Liam breathes when he tilts his head to change the angle. His fingers slip under the loose shirt, tickling their way up his skin.

Zayn curls his arms around Liam's shoulders, needing more of the warmth that burns more than the dryer behind him. Flames licking out from his fingertips, igniting a fire against his skin.

"Can I take this off?" Liam murmurs, curling his fingers around the material to tug it up more. His lips move to Zayn's jaw, forming a grin. "Think you forgot to put it in the wash."

"I just put it on," Zayn giggles, releasing Liam from his grip to allow him to tangle it off of him anyway. “S’not dirty.”

"Well I hate it, then. It just needs to go," Liam chuckles, throwing the shirt behind him so it lands no where near the dirty laundry bin. He cups his hands behind Zayn's thighs to lift him before placing him on top of the dryer.

Zayn curls his legs around Liam's waist, trapping him close. "It's yours."

"What about this?" Liam murmurs under his breath, eyes dark as he looks up at Zayn with possessive palms sliding up his torso.

"Yeah, yours too," Zayn breathes before stitching his lips back to Liam's.

Liam's hands explore his skin as their lips move together, staining over his ink and across his back, fingers tickling across his arms and dragging against his beard. Sweat drips down his spine, collecting at his brow, arousal burning in his belly from the whispered moan Liam lets out when he drags Zayn to the edge of the dryer.

"Hot in here," Zayn chuckles, dipping his fingers under the collar of Liam's shirt to feel his skin damp with sweat.

Liam quirks an eyebrow, his fingers curling underneath the band of Zayn's joggers. "'Cause you're not naked enough, babe."

"I will probably burn the skin off my arse on this dryer if you take my joggers off," Zayn says seriously. The heat from the machine underneath him seers through his clothes, trying to compete with the burn of Liam's skin.

Liam lifts him easily, swinging him around in a way that makes Zayn cling to him as his stomach drops from the fear of falling. He is a mess of soft giggles as he peppers his lips to Liam’s face, cupping his cheeks to make Liam look at him instead of the direction he is going.

(Which proves to be quite dangerous since Zayn feels his back hit a hard surface more than a few times before Liam finally gets them through their bedroom door.)

“Better?” Liam chuckles, sliding his fingers over the curve of Zayn’s bum. His fingers still burn through the thick material of his pants, fire crackling up his spine as Liam gives him a little squeeze.

“When they come off,” Zayn whispers huskily, pressing on Liam’s shoulders so he will let him down.

He trips out of the joggers, Liam’s fingers on his sides as they stumble out of their clothes loudly. The creak of their bed when they fall onto it echoes across the walls and Zayn presses a finger to Liam’s lips to hush him so they don’t wake the little ones.

Liam licks his finger instead, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Dork,” Zayn huffs out, curling his arm around the back of Liam’s neck. “What has gotten into you -”

Liam’s hands are rough against his sides, dragging down them until they cup his hips. “Our anniversary is in a few days.”

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes, pecking a kiss to Liam’s lips.

“And remember when you finally said you would be my boyfriend, I told you it was probably because of the wicked head I gave you a few days before.”

Zayn barks out a laugh, eyes falling shut as his body shakes with it. It had been Liam’s way of easing the situation since Zayn had cheeks covered in tears and swollen eyes when he finally agreed to it because Liam had to go all out and write a speech -

“The gaggin’ all around my dick was a game changer, love.”

This time Liam laughs, a choked out giggle with bunched up red cheeks - and really that was the game changer, all those years ago. When Zayn realized he wanted nothing more than to be completely surrounded by _that_.

“I knew it,” Liam huffs out the last of his laugh before pecking his lips. “Maybe I could have another go - see if I still got it in me.”

Zayn nibbles on his bottom lip, anticipation making his words die out in his throat so he can only nod.

Liam grins softly at the reaction, tightening his grip around his waist. “Budge up, love.”

Zayn goes, shifting up until his back rests against the pillows and Liam presses a small kiss over his sternum.

His prick plumps as he watches Liam ease himself lower with gentle kisses against his belly, palms caressing the bare of his bony hips just like he had all those years ago. He still remembers it, the week leading up to them finally making it official. He had been an emotional train wreck, feeling guilty every time Liam asked him to go out with him. His worries taking over his mind, keeping him from seeing what was right in front of him.

A man who loved him and Bashar more than anything.

Zayn shifts his legs up some when Liam makes his way to his thighs, the graze of his teeth sending a shiver up Zayn’s spine. He wants to be better at being less worrisome, at least about things he shouldn’t be. He had always been envious of how Liam can get stressed but then be fine, never letting anything occupy his thoughts for too long unless it was truly something important.

Or how he can tell the difference between what to worry about and what not to worry about.

Zayn closes his eyes when the thoughts invade his head again, her stupid pretty face and her long, toned legs. The smell of her perfume, which must be hers - and the wonder if she still has a habit of being touchy with Liam.

"So, you've finally gotten yourself a secretary?"

Liam pops his head up, brows furrowed in confusion. His palms rub up the inside of Zayn's thighs where he rests between, his coarse hands burning against his skin. Zayn sucks in his bottom lip, cussing at himself quietly because he probably just ruined the moment.

"No," Liam says before he ducks his head back down to soothe a tongue over the burn his hands have left behind. He shivers, his forehead crinkling as he tries to concentrate on the wet heat of Liam's mouth and not his thoughts.

"Sophia," Zayn says thickly, gentling his fingers through Liam's hair as Liam bites down on the sensitive part of his thigh. "She ah - fuck, um answered your office phone."

Liam rolls a tongue over his now tender skin before moving his lips to Zayn's hip. "'Cause you called so many times, she had thought it was an emergency or summat."

Zayn lets out a shaky breath as Liam's lips skate over where his cock lies heavy against his belly before landing on the inky black heart on the other hip. "Oh."

Liam looks up at him again for a long moment, resting on his forearms before he crawls up Zayn's torso to put those forearms on either side of his head. "Pet adoption event babe. I told you not to worry about her."

"Does she know about me?" Zayn mutters insecurely, sliding his palms around Liam's back. _Shut up -_

Liam chuckles softly, looking at him like he is mental. "Of course. I talk about you so often, I reckon everyone I meet knows how much I love you."

Zayn wrinkles his nose. "Good," he mumbles, feeling childish with the pout of his lips.

Liam's lips quirk up, no judgment in his eyes despite of it. "And you know what my oldest son told me?"

Zayn shakes his head, pressing down on Liam's back so he weighs down against him. His legs shift, spreading Zayn's more as his cock presses against his hip.

Liam ducks his head down, lips breezing against Zayn's ear. "Told me you have a crush on me. Said you think I'm fit or whatever."

Zayn barks out a laugh, turning his head so his lips knock against Liam's cheek. His worries sizzle away for a moment, and even if it is only for a moment - he is thankful. "That was supposed to be a secret."

"I had a feeling you did, anyway," Liam chuckles. "I _am_ kind of fit -"

Zayn brushes his lips against Liam's nodding. "You are quite beautiful babe. You should probably kiss me or summat. To see if we are compatible."

Liam raises a brow, eyes bright as he moves down Zayn's body some.

"Yeah?" He mutters, leaning his head towards his chest. "Here?"

Zayn nods, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he feels Liam's press an open mouth kiss to his collarbone.

"And here?" Liam goes on, pressing another against the lips inked to his skin. Zayn exhales, nodding again. His cock feels heavy against his belly, and he is probably going to combust into flames if Liam keeps it going for much longer.

Liam looks up at him as he moves lower. "And here?"

Zayn's skin feels like fire as he tilts his head to watch Liam press a kiss above his navel, feeling the way Liam's tongue rolls against his skin just to taste.

"Probably a bit lower too," Zayn says tightly. He slides his fingers against the sheet to keep them from tangling into Liam's hair.

Liam's lips quirk up as his tongue traces down his belly. "Like here?"

"Yeah," Zayn breathes, stitching his hips to the mattress as Liam's cheek brushes against the head of his prick. Precome leaks out against his navel as the arousal in his belly spreads, making him feel like he is close already when Liam hasn't even touched him yet -

"But not here, right?" Liam asks huskily. His parted lips hover over the swollen head, his breath warm against his skin just to frustrate him.

"Liam," Zayn complains, nudging his side with his foot.

Liam grins like the jerk he is before he peppers a kiss to the tip. "Like that?"

"Maybe a bit more," Zayn suggests, giving up on keeping his hands in the sheets. He smoothes a thumb across his cheek, coaxing him back down.

Liam wraps his lips around the head, sucking softly until the whine escapes Zayn's throat.

"Yeah like that," Zayn encourages, voice low and thick with arousal. He pushes up some to curl his fingers around his length, overwhelmed by the way Liam doesn't hesitate to follow his lead and by the dark, blown out look in his eyes.

Liam groans when Zayn pushes past his lips, a desperate sound vibrating in his throat. He has always been so overwhelmed by Liam like this, eager and obscene with those full lips, glossy as Zayn teases the head along them. Liam keeps his lips parted, tongue flicking out and lapping at the slit as Zayn drags his cock over his bottom lip.

"Come on," Liam urges, nudging Zayn's palm.

"Want it, yeah?" Zayn huffs out, pressing his thumb against Liam's bottom lip to open his mouth more.

Liam nods, eyes flitting shut as Zayn slides against his tongue. He inhales before he sinks forward, lips wrapping around his length and a tongue curling against the underside.

Zayn groans low in his throat, keeping his fingers a gentle pressure against Liam’s skin as he works himself lower, apple red lips stretched obscenely around the thick of him.

Liam groans, nostrils flaring out as he inhales and pulls back. He builds up a slow rhythm, sinking further down on Zayn’s cock each time, until his nose is tickling against the coarse hair at the base and Zayn’s legs quake with the feel of Liam’s throat constricting around him as he swallows.

He wipes a thumb under Liam’s eyes, swiping the tear that wells there as he relaxes his throat and makes a rough sound around him.

“Ah fuck,” Zayn grits out, waves of pleasure making the muscles of his belly dance. “Ease up -”

Liam pulls off, lips quirking up as he covers Zayn’s hand with his own, slowly pumping him. His voice is raw when he speaks and Zayn is sure he could come just from listening to him talk like that -

“Taste good, babe. I like how heavy you feel against my tongue -”

“Liam,” Zayn whines, guiding his length so it rubs against Liam’s cheek, glossing up his skin and making him a proper mess.

Liam squeezes his fingers, tightening Zayn’s grip around himself and he moans at the pressure around his shaft, the soft of his own hand slick with Liam’s spit. Liam tongues at the slit, eyes dark and trained on Zayn as he pants out quickly.

Liam’s eyes flutter shut as the muscles of his belly dance angrily, thighs tensing and jerking closer to Liam’s head like there is a string yanking at them. He can see the muscles tense in Liam’s bum where he works his hips against the sheets, jerky movements like he too is close to the edge.

It is his moans, vibrating against his length that pulls Zayn over the edge with a gasp that shatters through the room. His hand grips at Liam’s jaw as he sinks further, gagging some as Zayn pulses down his throat.

“Oh fuck, Li,” Zayn exhales shakily, rolling his hips some as Liam works his mouth quickly around the head of his prick. Come spurts against his lips, sliding down the corner of his mouth and over their fingers but he doesn’t stop until the shake in Zayn’s legs become too hard to bear.

Zayn tugs at Liam’s shoulders quickly, desperation making the energy in the room heighten. Liam doesn’t hesitate to move up, fingers curling around his length as Zayn slips down his pillows some.

“My turn,” Zayn breathes out, fingers cupping Liam’s hips to make crawl further up his body.

“ _Fuck_ \- yeah?” Liam gasps out, pumping himself quickly as he brackets Zayn’s shoulders. He is so hard, leaking out all over his hand and Zayn knows how close he is already. The flush of his dick matches the color of his lips, and Zayn wants to taste them both -

“Yeah,” Zayn groans, lips parting and moving Liam’s hims closer until his length nudges against his lips. Liam tucks a pillow behind Zayn’s head before he grabs at the headboard, slowly guiding his prick past Zayn’s lips.

The bitter taste of Liam tackles his tastebuds, the weight of his prick heavy on his tongue. Liam grips tightly at his jaw, supporting his head. The litany of moans above him making Zayn groan roughly around Liam, fighting against the hold of Liam’s hand to tilt his head to take him further -

His lips strain with the stretch as he tries to accommodate the thick of Liam, his fingers curling around the base to rub a thumb on the underside. He feels the pulse under the pad of his finger, swallowing around Liam as he hears the long moan Liam lets out, his only warning before he starts to come.

Liam tilts Zayn’s head some, bucking shallowly past his lips as he rides out his orgasm. He is not as messy as Zayn, keeping most of his come slipping down Zayn’s tongue instead of all over his face, but Zayn pulls his cock away from his lips quickly - wanting to be a mess.

“Fuck,” Liam groans as come collects against Zayn’s lips and dribbles down his chin. He chuckles breathlessly before leaning back to sit on Zayn’s lap. “Fucking beautiful, you are.”

It is so fond that Zayn flushes, curling his fingers around the back of Liam’s neck to pull him closer. Liam breathes out something indecipherable before their lips slot together, their tongues curling around each other like they are desperate for the other to know what the other one tastes like.

“Do I still got it?” Liam teases, pulling back some and inhaling deeply like he needs to catch his breath.

“I would date you,” Zayn huffs out, rubbing his thumb against the corner of his lips to wipe away the come that still remains there. “Maybe.”

Liam rolls his eyes as he shifts off Zayn’s lap. “Should have kept that shirt to clean you off. You’re a mess, babe.”

“You too,” Zayn frowns at him, reaching over to wipe the come off of his husband’s cheek. Liam leans over, pressing his lips to his.

“I’ll finish the laundry tomorrow after work. Gotta clean the sheets,” Liam snorts, wrinkling his nose as he kicks the top one off of the bed and onto the floor. “Almost nutted all over them.”

Zayn giggles, tugging Liam to his chest. He doesn’t care if they are sticky and messy, his body feels heavy and satiated, like Liam is his drug and he needed to feed his addiction and he just wants to lay here and soak in more of him.

"Don't make any plans tomorrow," Liam mumbles, resting his cheek against Zayn's chest. His fingers tickle against Zayn’s side, drawing invisible shapes. “I thought we could go out and celebrate our anniversary since I won’t be here on Saturday.”

Zayn gulps, watching the way his thumb rubs lazily against Liam’s bicep. He had a feeling the pet adoption event was on the same day as their anniversary, but it doesn’t matter because Zayn hadn’t even planned on celebrating it until Bashar mentioned getting Liam something. They usually celebrate their wedding anniversary each year, instead.

“What do you have in mind?”

Liam’s palm flattens, rubbing down his belly. “Put something together over at Nialler’s tomorrow night. The regular crowd, maybe a few more people. And the kids are always welcomed there, so -”

“I’ll try and clear my schedule,” Zayn jokes, laying his head back against the pillow.

++

"We are here!" Maira sings as she marches into the restaurant, her arms raised above her head. The restaurant is loud, filled with all familiar faces who wave at them as she enters. The lights are dimmer than usual and there are more people here than there normally is on one given night.

They erupt into a cheer of ' _Happy Anniversary'_ s as Zayn follows in last, Liam's hand pressed against his lower back. He flushes, smiling sheepishly at everyone as Liam chuckles in his ear.

"Oi" Niall yells over them, raising a mug into the air where he stands behind the bar. Liquid sloshes over the side and down his arm but he hardly seems to mind. “Leemo and Zayner!”

Zayn takes Mahaad’s hand, watching the way he constantly looks up and back at him while cringing at the loud noise as the crowd joins in with Niall.

“Leemo and Zayner!”

The crowd’s chanting dies into the familiar buzz of chatter that usually comes with Nialler's place as Zayn and Liam make their way to the bar, Mahaad close to their side. Maira takes off, feet pounding against the floor and weaving through the tables towards Harry and Bashar settles onto a stool in front of Niall, sketchpad in his hands. He had insisted on bringing it with him tonight.

“Sickening,” Niall spits, a cheerful grin on his lips. “But I’m happy for you guys.”

Liam smiles softly, reaching over the counter to pinch Niall’s cheek. “Aw, Nialler.”

Niall shoves him off with a scowl. “Off with you. I like only like you because of this one.”

He leans his elbows on the counter in front of Bash, a lazy grin taking over his lips. “Ay Bash. What can I get ya?”

"Some chips, please."

Niall grins as he nods. "You got it, laddy. And for the little one?"

Zayn lifts Mahaad into the stool, keeping his hands on his back to steady him. "I can share with Bash."

He likes this kind of crowd, more so than the one Louis usually drags him into. But he misses Louis, wishing Liam would have thought to invite him along. He considers taking his parents offer on visiting this weekend, to see Louis and at least be able to spend the night with Liam on their anniversary since the event is in Wolver-Hampton.

Liam keeps by his side, arm stitched to his lower back and Mahaad’s fingers tangled with his own, but Bashar and Maira make their way around the group of people as the night goes on. Zayn is careful not to drink too much since the festival is the next day, but it proves to be difficult with the way Liam keeps beckoning Niall to fill his mug before it even gets empty and he has a habit of sipping at his beer while Liam talks with people, as an excuse not to talk too much, because the extra attention on him makes him antsy.

“I love you guys,” Harry sighs, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s shoulders and pecking a kiss at Liam’s cheek where he stands pressed behind Zayn. “Name your next child after me.”

“Absolutely not,” they say at the same time and Harry pulls off with an offended look.

Mahaad looks up at them with big curious eyes, glancing between Harry and Zayn. Harry nudges his fingers through his curls until his lips push up into a grin.

“Fine,” Harry sighs as he looks up and pokes Zayn in the chest. “But if you name him after Niall -”

“It will be a girl,” Liam cuts him off, pressing his grin to Zayn’s temple. “I feel it in my bones.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, tickling his fingers at the back of Mahaad’s neck. “Don’t get ‘im started, Haz.”

“Another Incwedible? Like Jack Jack?”

Zayn’s lips tug into a smile instantly as he hears the little squeak of his son’s voice and the curious way he looks up at him. Liam whispers a soft, _oh no_ , against his skin as he covers Zayn’s hand on Mahaad with his own.

“Would you like that?” Zayn whispers quietly under the noise of the crowd and the music that plays in the background.

Mahaad shrugs before he stretches his arms into the air and makes Zayn pick him up. He curls a tiny arm around the back of Liam’s head, dragging him closer. “He can sleep in my bed.”

Zayn snorts as Liam groans and slides his arms tightly around Zayn’s middle. Liam presses a kiss to Mahaad’s nose before he presses his own nose there, wiggling it until Mahaad giggles quietly. Even though he is right between them, he feels like he is watching them from a distance, a warmth coating his skin and filling his chest and it isn’t from the alcohol in his system.

 

" _Excuse me._ "

Zayn's head snaps in the direction of the small voice, loud overhead. A reflexive smile takes over his lips as he spots her standing on the stage, looking so tiny but so grown with the way her shoulders are pushed back and she looks into the crowd like she could care less that there are dozen of eyes on her.

Mahaad is on the side of the stage, hidden in the dark some with his legs crisscrossed and hands in his lap as he watches his sister with the microphone.

"My name is Maira," she starts, wiggling her fingers in a wave. "Baba look up here."

Zayn snickers quietly, pushing off the stool he sits on beside Bashar so Maira can see him better. He waves a hand, his eyes stuck on her and not the others that turn to him.

"Eyes up here, okay?"

Zayn nods, tucking his fingers into his pockets.

"I would like to family introduce," she goes on, being cut off for a moment as the crowd laughs. "My Papa!"

The crowd claps and Maira beams, cheeks bunching up as she looks off stage. Zayn inhales sharply, watching Liam's expression mirror their daughter's as he steps on stage. His fingers brush against the back of Mahaad's head before he cups his hand against the back, making the little boy stand up and come onto the stage with him.

He clings to Liam's hip as he takes the microphone and kisses Maira's cheek. Zayn's chest swells watching them, making his throat tight because he doesn't know what Liam is going to do or say, but he knows it will probably make him cry. It always makes him cry, because Liam’s act of love are over the top grandeur, and Zayn’s are always so hard to see -

Liam's eyes find his instantly despite the crowd and the dim lights, a soft expression taking over his face. "Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?"

Zayn's teeth drag across his bottom lip out of habit as he shakes his head. He doesn't remember, but he remembers the first time Liam said it to him. Late at night and half asleep, with Bash asleep on his chest and Zayn tucked into his side. He had been nervous for days to bring it up, because he hadn't been sure Liam meant to or remembered that he had said it.

But then he did again casually, after a quick peck on the lips and yelling it to him as he jogged away as not to be late for some exam.

"I can't forget it," Liam says softly, fingers catching in Mahaad's hair. "You were a dork about it, proper nervous like. Sweating so bad and I thought you were going to be sick because it was my turn for dinner, and even though you had always insisted you liked whatever I chose, I could always tell you were just saying that and well, because Bash used to always spit it out."

Zayn chuckles fondly, glancing behind him at their oldest who still has that sketchpad glued to his lap, drawing furiously. He has been attached to it even more so as of late, and refuses to let Zayn see anymore of his sketches.

"We were listening to this song," Liam goes on, waving towards the karaoke machine though no music plays. "Which I think you were only playing because of the Timberlake obsession I used to have."

Zayn rolls his eyes, taking a few steps forward. Used to - more like still. But he loves it, because he too is a fan, and he is kind of in love with how Liam always bellows out the lyrics anytime he listens to him.

"And I told you I loved it," Liam continues, chuckling softly. He swallows thickly, noticeable despite the distance and Zayn feels the same tightness in his throat as he starts to remember. "And you hooked your chin on my shoulder and whispered, _'well, I love you._ '"

The crowd rumbles out an _awe_ and Niall comes up to Zayn, pressing a hand to his back to urge him closer to the stage. The music starts, followed by a few hoots and hollers that Zayn is sure is from Harry.

Liam looks shy, bashful in the way his chin falls to his chest and his eyes keep on Zayn from under his eyelashes. Maira wiggles behind him, hands clapping together much faster than the beat. One he recognizes well -

_"I woke up this morning, and heard the TV sayin' something -"_

Zayn inhales deeply, trying to get as much oxygen into his lungs as he can. He remembers now, watching Liam sing softly to this song before he said he loved it. The way he craved for Liam to mean the lyrics because Zayn did and he likes to go to music to express himself better than finding his own words to do it -

_"About disaster in the world and it made me wonder where I'm going -"_

He mouths along to the words, huffing them out around a laugh as both of Liam's eyes fall shut around a wink.

_"There's so much darkness in this world, but I see beauty left in you-"_

Liam puts the microphone in front of Mahaad's lips, whose eyes go wide and he hides his face against Liam's thigh. Zayn walks in front of the stage, stretching over the edge to tickle his fingers against his arm.

Liam's eyes go squinty as he smiles and tickles his fingers under Zayn's chin, bending down in order to do so, making Mahaad bend down too. _"'Cause if your love was all I had, in this life - that will be enough, until the end of time."_

Zayn grips onto the floor of the stage to keep himself from kissing Liam, because he wants Liam to keep singing to him. He forgets about the crowd and the eyes on them, and how it isn’t a private moment even though it feels like one.

_"Rest your weary heart,"_ he sings quieter this time. _"And relax your mind."_

His palm slides against Zayn's cheek and he rubs against it. Zayn hopes Liam can feel the way his skin burns because the lights are dim in the restaurant and he isn’t sure if he can see them from the light above the stage.

Maira sings along with the end of the chorus, loud enough to be heard without a microphone. Adrenaline forces itself through him when he gets the idea and he jumps, climbing onto the stage and pulling the microphone from Liam's grip as his lips part to continue onto the next verse.

_"Now if you're ever wondering how I'm feeling,"_ Zayn sings, voice shaking more noticeably than the microphone from his hands. Liam's cheeks bunch up, his eyes noticeably water under the light overhead.

Mahaad curls his arm around Zayn's thigh, making him shuffle closer to Liam until they are only a breath apart and hiding himself from the crowd behind their bodies. The clapping around him fades, the crowd blurring as he can only focus on the man in front of him.

_"Just to be around you is a blessing."_

He chokes it out before he closes his eyes and tries to regain composure, but there are rough fingers scraping against his neck and Zayn barely has enough time to move the microphone before Liam's lips are on his.

_“‘Cause I’m gonna love you boy,”_ Zayn sings under his breath when Liam pulls away, microphone forgotten by his side. “ _Until the end of time.”_

++

The school's field is hardly recognizable with the thick crowd, a much better turnout than expected, and the set up of booths, games and rides. Zayn is impressed it can all fit really, with given how small the field looks empty.

Kids run all around, with faces painted, toys in their arms and parents trailing behind. He can almost hear the music over the noise of people, which he had set up through the loud system earlier this morning. Some radio for kids, which has been playing mostly Disney songs.

"Oh Papa, get the tiger," Maira says, pointing to a picture tacked to a board on the face paint stand of a little boy with an orange tiger painted on his face.

"No,” Mahaad jumps in, pointing to the picture beside it. "The butterfly."

Liam chuckles, placing a hand on each one of their heads before he turns to the lady behind the stand. "May I please get a butterfly tiger?"

Zayn snorts, biting his tongue to keep the laughter from bubbling past his lips. He follows the three of them as the woman guides Liam to a seat, lugging the stuffed animals that they have won the kids. (Liam had to one up him and win a blue dog practically double the size of himself).

"I reckon you'll make a cute tiger butterfly, babe," Zayn chuckles. "Call me when it's done, I'm going to drop these off in the truck and check on Bash?"

As excited for the festival as Bash was, he had begged Liam and him to let him stay at the Patient Paws' booth on the other side of the field and insisting it had been forever since he had seen Clark even though it had only been a few days. Zayn couldn't say no, and hasn't been able to stop thinking about how getting Clark for an anniversary gift would be a good idea because of it.

Clark lays across Bash’s lap at the back of the booth, the other two therapy dogs latched to their trainer’s sides. Bash’s bottom lip is pushed out, red and swollen like he has been chewing on it and his fingers lazily stroke through the dog’s fur.

“Hey,” Zayn says to Jade, who sits at the table in front of the booth. She has a few flyers and pamphlets in front of her, and a few pictures of the dogs up for adoption. “How is he? Didn’t put you through any trouble, I hope.”

Jade shakes her head, laughing slightly. “Good boy, he is. Well behaved and loves that dog almost as much as the dog loves him. Clark laid on his lap and has refused to move since.”

Zayn nibbles on his lip, looking behind her. He still hasn’t noticed that Zayn is here, and it seems like he refuses to pull his eyes off of the dog. “What happened?”

Jade looks back at Bashar, shrugging some. “I don’t know. He was helping me put out the adoption pictures and just settled back there. Hasn’t moved, since.”

Zayn glances at the table, breath hitching when he spots the picture of Clark with the other dogs that are waiting to be adopted. He drags a finger over it, eyeing the name printed on the back like he needs a confirmation that it is really Clark in the photo.

Pain tugs at his heart roughly as he frowns. Liam hadn’t told him he was being put up for adoption. He knew Liam wanted them to adopt him, but he didn’t know it was possible that anyone else could.

“Henry doesn’t want to take care of Clark anymore?” Zayn asks, looking away from the photo. Henry works the night shift, keeping an eye on the dogs waiting to be adopted, and having taken care of Clark ever since his last owners decided that Patient Paws was the best place for Clark. He never considered himself the owner, even though he let Clark stay in his flat behind the kennel more often than not.

Jade sighs regretfully. “It is the summer time, the amount of dogs staying while their families are on vacation is filling up our kennels fast. Henry says there is no room to keep bringing in dogs to be adopted and we need to try harder to find homes for the ones we already have.”

Zayn’s face crumples into a frown. “What did Liam say about that?”

She just shrugs, lips pressing together.

Zayn doesn’t hesitate as he glances between the photo of Clark, which had been taken years ago since there is no gray in his fur like there is now, and his son, whose cheek now rests against the top of the old dog’s head.

“I want him,” Zayn says, putting the photo down. “I’ll take him home today. Take him off your list.”

Jade’s brows stitch together, lips parting and opening a few times. “There is paperwork you will have to fill out and it has to go through Liam first. Liam said Clark’s adoption has to be handled by him himself.”

“I’m his husband,” Zayn reminds her, a bit harsher than he means to but he feels angry that Liam hadn’t told him about this. “I will discuss it with him at home, and I’m sure he will be fine with it. The pet adoption is in two days, I’m not taking the chance -”

“A month,” Jade interrupts him, brows furrowing more. “You have a month until the adoption event, and I suggest you take some time to think about this because Liam made it pretty clear you didn’t want the dog.”

Zayn stares at her, not sure which part of what she just said to pay more attention to. The fact that he never told Liam he didn’t want Clark, he was just nervous about being able to take care of him properly, or -

“The adoption is on Saturday,” Zayn tells her, frowning. “Liam has been planning it for weeks. He is headed towards Wolver-Hampton tomorrow, for it.”

Jade glances down at notebook on the table, flipping through some pages before she shakes her head. “No, the only event we have planned is the adoption event next month. And it’s here, over at the Church.”

Zayn swallows thickly as her words drag through him. He curls his fingers into a fist, trying to prevent the shake in them and keep his voice light. That feeling in his chest he thought he had gotten rid of comes back full force.

“I’m taking the dog, Jade,” Zayn says tightly before he looks up towards Bashar. “Come beta, bring Clark with you!”

Jade just sighs, mumbling something under her breath as Bashar pushes up and Clark follows him instantly, even though he hasn’t gotten a grip on his leash yet.

Zayn grabs Bash’s hand when he is near, careful not to grab too tightly because it feels like anger is radiating off of him. Bash looks up at him with worried eyes.

“We are taking Clark home,” Zayn tells him with an attempt at an earnest smile. He pulls out his cellphone, texting Liam to tell them he is going home because he doesn’t want to see Liam’s face or think Liam’s name or the fact that there is no pet adoption on Saturday so he has no idea why Liam has been spending all of his time in Wolver-Hampton with Sophia.

“Yeah?” Bashar chirps, eyes watering instantly. “No jokin’?”

“No joking,” Zayn says softly, pressing his lips to Bash’s forehead. “Best mates gotta stick together.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think so far? Still love me :p. I am posting Chapter 3 this Wednesday coming up. [tumblr](http://zrandpa.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you for alll of the feedback! I am sorry for having you wait, but hopefully it is worth it:)

Zayn sinks into the old couch, his fingers drawing idle shapes against the cushions, wishing the look of pure happiness on Bashar’s face as he curls on the floor with Clark is enough to ease the ache in his chest. But it hurts so bad that not even that seems to work, even though it is his go to for comfort.

He is on edge, ignoring the phone as Liam calls him over and over, waiting for Liam to burst into the door with that puppy concerned look he always wears when something is wrong. Zayn feels bad for putting Jade into a bad spot, taking out his anger on her. She didn’t know Liam is lying to him, _cheating_ on him -

Zayn presses a palm to his lips, pushing up from the couch quickly as the sob in his chest hits him without warning. He is afraid that Bashar saw, but he runs into the kitchen without word anyway and presses his back hard against the wall like that can alleviate the pressure around his lungs.

He stares at the refrigerator, knees bent as his back against the wall holds his weight. There is a collection of drawings on it, old ones that have turned yellow around the corners, hung up by alphabet magnets and picture magnets of the kids because Liam had gone through a period of obsession over them. There is usually one of the five of them in the middle, taken at his mother’s house two years ago and Zayn rests his forehead against his knees, falling further onto the floor when he notices that it is no longer there.

He hears the door open, Clark’s loud barking, Liam and Bashar both telling him to hush and that _it’s only Papa_ -

He wipes furiously at his cheeks as he pushes up from the floor, trying to regain his balance and composure before he leaves the kitchen.

Liam is on his knees, petting Clark behind his ears, Maira jumping around excitedly and Mahaad plastered to Liam’s back, fingers squeezing into his sweater and eyeing the dog over his shoulder unsurely.

Liam’s face is covered in orange, black stripes and a butterfly shape drawn around his eyes and over his cheeks and it makes Zayn feel worse, somehow.

“Baba said he is ours now,” Bashar says excitedly. Maira’s eyes grow even wider and she squeezes her fists tightly, face shaking some like she can’t contain how excited she is. “He gets to live at home with us.”

Liam glances at their son before he presses his lips to the top of Clark’s head. “You reckon he'll like it here?”

Bash nods excitedly. “He can sleep in my bed.”

“No mine,” Maira shoots back quickly, pointing to herself.

“No,” Mahaad gasps out, shaking his head. He looks panicked, letting go of his Papa and scurrying over towards Zayn when he spots him in the entranceway to the living room. Liam glances at him for a moment, a look on his face that Zayn can’t quite name but it dulls the brightness of his eyes.

“Baba, tell Bash no,” Mahaad whimpers quietly, tears already starting to well up in his eyes. Zayn rests his cheek to his, trying not to look at the way Liam’s concerned expression grows because he knows it is because he can’t keep the broken look off of his own.

“You like Clark,” Zayn reminds him, the pain he feels evident in his voice but he hopes Mahaad doesn’t notice. “Remember? But we can find another place for him to sleep, okay?”

“My room!” Maira insists, stomping her foot.

Zayn avoids Liam as much as possible over the next two hours until bedtime, which proves to be nearly impossible as Liam insists on helping him with dinner even though Zayn said he would do it himself and insists on getting the knots out of Maira’s hair at the same time as Zayn is in the bathroom with Mahaad trying to get the knots out of his. He keeps his lips pressed together tightly, his muscles strained from trying to keep himself together every time Liam glances his way.

Bashar keeps worried eyes on him, flicking between him and Liam and refusing to leave Clark’s side. It is tense, and he is afraid the kids are catching on but he feels like he is a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any moment.

Liam and Bash make a bed for Clark in the laundry room, even though Mahaad is back to being comfortable enough around the dog that he seems to forget he is there. He is still panicked about him sleeping in their room, so Bash agrees to let him sleep in the laundry room because he doesn’t want Clark to sleep in Maira’s room. It causes Maira to throw a tantrum that seems like hours before she calms down enough to let Zayn tuck her into bed, even though it is really only a few minutes.

“But can the puppy sweep in here tomorrow?” She asks, lip trembling some as Zayn wipes away the few remaining tears. Her cheeks are bright red, her brows wrinkling together every time she sniffles. “Or I’ll sweep in the laundry room wit’im?”

Zayn grins softly, smoothing a palm against her cheek and soaking in the warmth of her skin, hotter than normal because of the intense way she had been crying. He knows it is probably because she is exhausted from the long day, because they all get cranky when they are tired, but it still heavies his heart.

"You sleep in your bed tonight, beti. I will talk to Bash ‘bout it.”

“Okay,” she says, voice trembling before she pushes up and smacks her lips to Zayn’s. “Sleep tight, Baba. Love you lots.”

"Love you lots more."

He feels kind of trapped, unsure of where to go to be alone and away from Liam, who leans over the bathroom’s sink, washing the paint off of his face as Zayn walks down the hallway. Just looking at him makes the anger boil through him even more and it makes him sick with how much he hates that.

He decides for the kitchen in the end, shaky fingers wrapping around the tea kettle. He knows he isn’t going to sleep tonight and he has a tin can of camomile stored at the top of the cabinet that he had knicked from Doniya’s house last year. The same kind his mum used to make for him before bed when she could tell he was troubled by anxious thoughts.

He keeps his palms hovering over the kettle, trying to soak in the warmth from the stove and wash away the chill that is wrapping itself around his bones and settling into his chest as he listens to Liam’s footsteps come closer.

That coldness seeps down his spine, stiffening his muscles. He can feel Liam’s eyes burning into his back and every second feels like it is moving at a turtle’s pace as he waits for Liam to say something.

“Want to tell me what this is all about?”

Zayn takes a moment before he shakes his head. He needs to, but his tongue feels heavy and swollen, pushing against the roof of his mouth and making it impossible to speak.

Liam sighs, and Zayn knows he is dragging a hand down his face before he speaks again. “If you wanted Clark, babe. You could have just told me. I want him too, you know that. I don't understand why Jade says you were so upset about it -”

Zayn swallows thickly, finally turning around. Liam looks stressed, his face crumpled and cheeks reddened. He leans a shoulder against the entrance of the kitchen, staring at him and waiting for him to explain.

“You didn’t tell me you were giving him up for adoption,” Zayn starts, even though that has somehow become the least of his worries at the moment. “D’you know what that would do to Bashar? What if he never gets to see him again?"

Liam’s face breaks slightly, a pained look crossing his features. “Is that why you seem so angry at me? I asked if we could have him for a reason, babe. And Bashar was that reason.”

Zayn looks at him, nibbling on his bottom lip. He hates the way anger is so consuming, the way it sends a jitter through his nerves and burns at his chest. The way his thoughts are harsh and nasty, a way he never wants to direct towards Liam. He hates the pain and frustration that comes along with his anger, and the way muscles tense before he speaks and the way his heart throbs because of it.

“I’m angry with you,” Zayn says, hating the shake of his voice even more. “Because of that and because Jade told me there is no fucking pet adoption this weekend.”

Liam stares at him with confusion on his face for a moment before he sighs and drags another hand down his face. Zayn doesn’t wait for him to respond, because the bomb inside of him has went off and he can’t keep back his weeks of pain anymore.

“You told me there was,” Zayn says furiously, his hands moving violently through the air as he speaks. “You assured me this girl was only helping you with a pet adoption, Liam. That was the only reason you were around her. Now tell me then, why the fuck do you keep lying to me about it? Because you know what I’m thinking and I’m begging for it not to be true -”

“Zayn,” Liam starts, cutting him off as he takes a step forward. He keeps flinching at the sharp of Zayn’s words, but he doesn’t look guilty or apologetic or anything and it pisses Zayn off even more.

“No, Liam,” Zayn snaps. “I don’t want to hear you lie anymore. I want you to be straight with me, tell me why you would do this. Are you unhappy? Why would you cheat -”

“ _I’m not cheating_ ,” Liam says in frustration suddenly, face reddening considerably with the force in the way he says it. “That is the truth.”

Zayn scoffs, a bit hysterical like. He feels a bit hysterical actually, like he is standing in the middle of a storm and everything is falling to pieces around him and he can't do anything other than let it happen.

"I want to believe that, but the actual truth is right in my face, Liam. You keep lying about why you’re seeing her, I’m not dumb - stop -”

Liam pushes off the wall, taking a step forward that makes Zayn take a step back, hitting his back against the counter. He feels like he is suffocating, tears choking his throat and his lungs collapsing with the fast way he tries to breathe.

“Babe,” Liam says softly, shoulders slumping as he stops dead in his tracks. A pained look crosses his features for a moment and Zayn can’t even find it in himself to care - rather have Liam feel even an ounce of the pain he is feeling at the moment than none at all. “My relationship with Sophia is completely business. You’ll see. Just give me two days and you - ”

Zayn chokes out a frantic sob, cutting Liam off once more. “Why? So you can go fuck her in Wolver-Hampton once last time?"

Liam makes a noise of frustration, lips pressing together and fists clenching by his sides.

“I’m not,” he says. It is louder this time, demanding to be heard, and even though he doesn’t yell it still makes Zayn flinch. He exhales out shakily, eyes clenching shut before he speaks again. “I need you to calm down and just trust me okay?”

“I can’t,” Zayn shouts back, waving his arms around him. He doesn't mean to yell, but it bubbles past his lips anyway. “You keep lying and apparently don’t care that every time you do I feel like my heart is breaking out of my chest. Don’t ask me to calm down when you can’t even explain to me why you are lying -”

“I am,” Liam blurts, looking far more calmer than Zayn, and even though Zayn knows that is just how Liam is, the calm compared to his storm, it hurts his heart to think that a possible end to their relationship wouldn't upset him more.

“I have been lying, but not because of what you think. I am not sleeping with anyone else or seeing anyone else or anything. I just need two days. This - us, it is the most important thing to me. I know you know that, Zayn. You just have to take control of those thoughts you get -”

The tears force their way down Zayn’s cheeks, his body trembling because of it. Liam's words seem to jumble together in his brain, and he can't focus on them enough to respond properly. “Then why would you do this, Liam? Why do you expect me to just go along with this, you are _mera jaan_ -”

Liam cups his cheeks, ignoring the way Zayn fights against it. The pressure  of his fingertips feel like they are bruising into his skin, adding to the pain that already feels crippling enough. “And you are mine,” he says softly, forcing Zayn to look at him. “I will show you.”

Liam gives him a hard look before something breaks across his features and he exhales out, letting his hands fall away from Zayn's face.

"Okay, I'll tell you," he starts, a regretful look on his face that makes Zayn shake his head furiously. Fear grips at him, terrified of the words that may pass Liam's lips even though he just yelled at Liam to tell him the truth.

"No," Zayn chokes out, panicked. "I don't want to know anymore -"

Liam furrows his brows, sliding a hand to his waist that he shakes off. "Babe, it's not bad, I promise. I just want to make your pain go away -"

Zayn opens his lips to tell him he rather him just fuck off, but he hears the soft _Baba_ whimpered from behind Liam and it cracks through his chest, making him gasp out before he looks around Liam’s shoulders.

Maira stands in the entrance to the kitchen, eyes wide with worry and fisting at her Olaf pajama shirt. Liam turns and Zayn pushes past him without hesitation, arms reaching out for her.

“Hey sleepyhead, what are you doing up?” he asks, surprised at how calm he is able to keep his voice, the shake around his words hopefully barely noticeable. He slides his hands underneath her armpits to pick her up, resting her against his chest. He can feel Liam right behind him, a hand going to his back out of habit.

“Bashar is crying, I fink,” she says softly with a yawn. “And he tol’ me to leave ‘im alone but I want him to stop, Baba.”

Zayn exhales sharply, biting hard on the inside of his lip to keep the tears from spilling out because that seems to increase his pain tenfold, even though he thought that feeling worse would be impossible.

"Come on, let’s get you back to bed and I’ll check on him.”

“I got it,” Liam sighs, starting to move past him but Zayn turns to glare at him before he can.

He doesn't mean to do it, but the anger inside of him boils out when he turns to snap at Liam.

“I’ll take care of my son, thanks,” he snaps quietly, his words sharp like daggers. Maira’s wiggles closer to him, nudging her face under his jaw and fisting hard at the black and red plaid shirt he wears.

Liam stiffens, face going blank as he nods and turns towards where the kettle starts to sing.

Zayn shuffles into Maira's room to tuck her under the covers, kissing her forehead and reminding her that he will just be down the hallway before he tip toes towards the boys' room, where he can hear muffled sniffles.

He peeks around the door frame, glancing over at Mahaad's empty bed before finding him sat beside a bundled heap on Bash's bed. Mahaad's arms are wrapped tightly around his legs, pulled to his chest and he stares down at his older brother.

"Bash, s'okay," he mutters, reaching out and patting him gently over the blanket. "Papa says he gets scared too."

Bashar's head pokes out from underneath the blanket, and Zayn can see the shine on his cheeks from their night light and the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip. "M'not."

"I am," Mahaad whispers, his voice trembling. “I don’t like the yelling. S’loud.”

Zayn reaches for the doorknob so he can comfort him but he stills when he watches Bashar push up into a sitting position. He wipes at his cheeks before he cups his hands, holding them out to his little brother.

"Give it to me," he says softly, indicating his hands. "Just put your fear here and I'll make sure it stays away from you."

Warmth cascades across Zayn's chest, and he feels a ghost of a sad grin against his lips. Liam had taught him that, always taking his fear from him whenever Bash was getting blood drawn or right before he went under for his surgery.

Mahaad places a hand on top of his older brother's, an unsure look on his face as Bash puts on a show of rubbing the fear out of him.

Mahaad giggles, wiping the tears away from his cheek. "I fink it worked, bhaiya."

Bashar grins tiredly, pulling the blanket up from the bed and scooching closer to the wall so there is enough room for Mahaad to fit beside him. Mahaad goes easily and Zayn rests his head against the door frame, pride mixing in with the pain that clings to his chest.

And the fear that matches his son's.

He stays there for a bit, watching his boys as they fall asleep before he pushes away from the door frame and shuffles back to the kitchen. There is an energy clinging to him despite the heaviness behind his eyelids that confirms that he is going to be restless tonight, unable to sleep.

A cup of tea waits for him on the counter, pouring out steam and burning hot to the touch. It is made just right, and Zayn doesn't understand why that hurts -

He is only in the kitchen for a moment before Liam joins him, probably just as restless as Zayn because he always is when they fight.

"I know that your thoughts make it hard to believe what I'm saying," Liam starts, his voice patient but Zayn can hear the emotion coating his words. And it makes him turn, because earlier he hadn't sounded that way. He seemed like he didn’t care at first.

His brows are pushed together, his lips a hard line as his jaw tenses before he speaks. It makes Zayn's heart race because he doesn't just look hurt, he looks mad - and that is a rare emotion for Liam.

"But you will," Liam goes on. "And you will see nothing will ever come between us."

Liam takes a step forward, dragging a hand down his face and Zayn feels the need to comfort him with the way his eyes water like whatever plays in his mind tugs too tightly at his heart strings.

"But if something were to happen, I don't care what - don't ever pull the 'my son' shit, Zayn. He's my son, too. Blood or not."

Zayn hesitates, mouth falling open as he tries to make sense of what Liam is saying.

He shakes his head when he remembers, pushing away from the counter to reach out to Liam. "I didn't it mean it that way, Liam. I would have said it about Mahaad or Maira, I swear. I know that, nothing will change that."

It drags down his heart that he ever implied that, and he doesn't pull away when Liam reaches out to cup his cheeks. Because this is why it hurts the way it does, not just because of him - but there are three little hearts that are in harm’s way, and he cares about those hearts more than his own.

"Nothing is going to change at all," he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking up some but it is sad still. "Go to your Mum's this weekend, clear your mind. Visit Lou or something and go out. I don't know, babe just - get it out of your head that I would ever be with someone else. You'll see, okay? There is absolutely nothing else in this world that makes me as happy as our family - you."

Zayn nods, because he can't do anything else. His body feels weighed down and the warmth from Liam’s palms on his cheeks is comforting, even though the pain wrapped around him makes him want to pull away.

Liam leans forward, grazing his lips against Zayn's. "Love you, and only you. _Mera jaan_."

++

It feels like a dream, lips scraping against his forehead and a heavy body resting against his back. Not as heavy as Liam, but the lips are Liam, and the soft voice that sounds after the feeling of lips leave his skin is Liam as well.

"Give Papa a kiss. Cuddle Baba real close until he gets up, okay?"

Lips press against his forehead again and he sighs into it, moving closer until more pressure is applied and fingers slide behind his head before he is pulled back into his actual dreams.

He wakes up shortly after, to a phone ringing loud in his ear and three pairs of limbs covering his body. He reaches blindly for his phone, careful not to jostle Bashar too much where he rests beside him, the blankets tucked to his neck.

"Hullo," Zayn yawns, rolling back over to snuggle his face into Bashar's back. Snores fill the room, from one of the twins. He isn't sure how or when they all ended up in his bed, or when he had finally fell asleep as he had laid in his bed for hours the night before, listening to Liam shuffle restlessly around the house, stopping a few times in front of their bedroom door before moving onto another room.

"Morning bhaiya," Safaa greets, cheerful because she has always been a morning person unlike himself. "Sorry if I woke you."

"S'okay," he mumbles. The television across from their bed is on, playing  Teen Titans quietly but loud enough for Bashar to hear. He grips onto Zayn's shirt tightly from under the blanket, eyes latched onto the screen.

"I called Liam so I wouldn't wake you but he didn't answer," she goes on. "I just wanted to let you guys know I'm coming home for the weekend. Right after me class finishes at two today."

Zayn opens his eyes, trying to fight off sleep. He presses his lips to Bash's bare back before rolling onto his own some and Bash goes with it, snuggling into his side automatically. The ache still hangs close to his chest, tightening the grip it has on his heart like it refuses to leave.

"Bash babe, where's Papa?" Zayn asks as he brushes the hair out of his face.

"Gettin' doughnuts."

Zayn drags a hand down his face as he listens to Safaa again. "I want you to bring my babies to the house for a visit, yeah? I miss them terribly."

He hums. Liam had suggested he go home for the weekend to clear his mind and he had been right. Being with his parents is one of the things he can always count on to help him feel better.

And Safaa.

"I can come up tonight," Zayn yawns, scratching his fingers through Bash's hair with the hand that doesn't hold the phone. "You want to go to Daadi's house for the weekend, babe?"

Bashar looks up at him, eyes wide and watering as he shakes his head furiously. Zayn frowns at the tremble of his lips, the way his nose wrinkles like he is about to start crying.

"Babe what is it?" He huffs out, tilting his head back to kiss his forehead.

"We can't," Bashar says frantically and loud, practically yelling the words at him. Zayn hushes him softly, cooing out a sound so he won't wake up his siblings.

"Saf, I'll call you right back," he says apologetically, hoping she can hear Bashar so he doesn't have to explain.

He curls towards Bash once he has hung up, brushing fingers through his hair but it doesn’t ease the force of his tears any. "Bash, why don't you want to go?”

"Because," he hiccups. "Jorden, my friend from class, told me when his mummy and dad broke up, they - they fought and his mum brought him to his gram's and now he doesn’t see his daddy every day. And I want to see Papa every day -"

Zayn stares at him for a moment, willing away the tears that prick at his own eyes. "Papa and I aren't breaking up, love."

Bashar nods furiously, face crumpling and more tears falling down his cheeks and out all of the pain Zayn has endured, this is the worst. "You - you been fightin' and Papa was sleeping on the couch when I woke up and - and now we're leavin' -"

His words die out as he chokes out his sobs and Zayn shifts up, plastering Bashar tightly to his chest. He brushes fingers through his hair, chin propped on the top of his head so he won't see his own tears as he rocks him. Panic grips at his throat because he doesn’t know what to do, this is what he had been afraid of -

"I'm sorry you heard us fighting but we are okay, alright? Papa will be in Wolver-Hampton too. There is no problem, babe. We’re alright."

It sounds as fake as it feels and Bashar wraps his arms tightly around Zayn, spilling tears out against his chest as Zayn repeats it over and over, whispered like he wants to make himself believe it more.

"You sure?" Bashar sniffles, wiggling his nose against Zayn's shirt.

"Positive," Zayn lies, his words choked.

++

Zayn eyes the kids from over his shoulder as he sinks his hands into the hot, bubbly water. The sound of water pouring out of the faucet and their giggles, innocent and carefree, are comforting.

Bashar refuses to leave his side, leaning against the counter with his bowl of Weetabix in his hands. Clark lays over his feet, eyes shut as Zayn washes the dishes.

"Donuts!" Mahaad cheers as Liam walks into the kitchen, a large, orange and pink box balancing in his hand. He wears a pair of worn trackies and a t-shirt of Zayn's that clings to him because of his thick frame. Sweat stains his collar and collects at his skin like he had jogged to the cafe, and he probably did since that is how he clears his mind.

Liam slides the donuts onto the table before opening it for the twins, glancing up at Zayn. Zayn rips his eyes away, shoving the plate he just washed into the strainer because he has used a lot of his leftover strength to keep a calm expression on his face for Bashar, and he isn’t sure how long it is going to last.

"Save the strawberry f’me," Liam says quietly. "And you know Baba likes those ones with the sprinkles."

"What one you want, Bash?" Maira calls over. “The glaze one?”

Zayn watches him as he looks down into his cereal bowl, which is filled with mush now and he barely any of it has been eaten. His eyes are still swollen but his tears have dried and his lips are no longer trembling, though they are tugged down into a frown.

"None," Bashar mumbles.

Zayn swallows thickly as he listens to Liam come closer. His brows are furrowed, shoulders tense as he slides his fingers through Bashar's hair. "What's wrong, buddy? Tummy feelin' okay?"

Bashar nods, not looking at Liam and Clark sits up, whining in his throat and nudging his nose against Bash's wrist.

"I'm going to my mum's tonight," Zayn tells him quietly, unable to find the strength to speak any louder. "Safaa is coming 'round for the weekend."

Liam nods jerkily, wiping his palms down his trackies. "Okay."

Bashar whimpers quietly and Zayn can’t hold in his grimace as he reaches for the kitchen rag to dry his hands so he can try to comfort him again.

"If you want to stop by," Zayn goes on anxiously, fingers tangling into rag roughly. "Um, after your event or whatever. I think Bash would like that."

Something nasty curls in his stomach because he has no idea what Liam is doing if not the pet adoption, and he doesn't believe Liam when he says it doesn't involve sleeping with Sophia, but he has to pretend it doesn’t bother him to protect Bashar.

Clark whines again, nuzzling closer until Bash places his bowl on the counter and places both hands on the back of the dog’s head. "Best friends stick together," he mumbles quietly.

Zayn bites down so hard on his bottom lip he feels like it might break as Liam cups a hand around the back of their son's head.

"Come on, beta. Come help Papa with something, yeah?"

Bashar looks at him with big eyes and a trembling lip as he nods and lets Liam guide him out of the kitchen.

 

"Can we talk? Will just take a moment," Liam says softly so the kids won't hear, leaning an arm against the driver seat door where Zayn sits, having practically rush packed clothes for the kids and himself and stuffed them into his car for the weekend while Liam had been in the shower. It had taken Mahaad forever to get dressed, and Liam had ended up helping him truck the kids to the car.

He just doesn't want to be around him, at the moment. The need to be away and with his mum is to great to just sit around and wait for Liam to be ready to go to too. He needs to clear his mind, because it still doesn't fully add up but Zayn swears that is because his mind just doesn't want it to.

"No," Zayn whispers back apologetically, gripping tightly to the steering wheel to comfort the urge to touch Liam's skin. "When we both get back. Um, when we - me, when I calm down."

"I need to tell you," Liam goes on, brows furrowing together. "Because I need you to stop looking at me like that."

"Please, Liam. I just need my mum," Zayn says quietly, turning away to look at the way the key twists in the ignition instead of Liam's face.

Liam sighs, stepping away from the car. "Fine, fine."

He wiggles his fingers at the kids through the window as Zayn drives off.

He swears he does try not to watch Liam shrink in the rearview mirror and he swears it is impossible.

++

Zayn glances at the kids through the rearview mirror, gulping as his chest rattles around the shaky feeling that has been stuck to him all day. Bashar sketches, sitting between the two booster seats. Maira has her headphones on, wiggling around and Mahaad watches Bashar intently.

"Alright back there?" Zayn asks, turning the wheel and inhaling sharply as he takes in the familiar neighborhood. It hasn't been that long since he has been home, but it has been a long time since he needed to be -

Maybe senior week, when he spent the day with a toddler Bashar curled on his chest and a full belly that made him nap more so than his son. His mother's fingers in his hair as she assured him that he didn't have to talk about it, she knew what was on his mind -

And that he was wrong, Liam loved him.

Or before that, in the middle of his sophomore year when Liam had asked him out for the first time, a whispered _I want you to be mine_ against his skin that had him scurrying off to his Mum's arms. And she had just hugged him and assured him that she knew -

He loved Liam.

"Yeah," Mahaad pipes, not looking up from the sketchpad.

Bash hums out his response. Whatever Liam had said or done after breakfast seemed to have worked, because he seems fine now - except he keeps talking about how he misses Clark, already. "We will see Papa tomorrow, he promised."

Zayn doesn't comment, and he looks straight ahead, trying to calm himself but the sight of the red brick house makes his heart hammer brutally in his chest, the craving he has to be home making him press on the pedal a little harder.

The front door is open, allowing him to see inside through the glass door as he pulls into the driveway behind Safaa's car.

His fingers shake as he gets out, the smell of freshly cut grass filling his nose, along with barbecue from the backyard. The house doesn’t look much different from the last time he had been home, except for the curtains in the windows are white instead of the floral ones and blue and purple flowers sprout out in the tiny pots by the steps.

"Daadi!" The twins scream as he helps Maira out of the car and she takes off the moment her feet touch the driveway, flying through the grass to jump into his mum's arms.

"Who is this?" Tricia coos, cupping her cheeks and wiggling their noses together. "You can't be my Maira, you're far too big."

Maira giggles. "I am, I pinky pwomise."

Mahaad clings to Zayn instead of letting him down and he closes the car before he trucks over, his breath catching in his throat as he watches his father follow behind Safaa out of the house, both smiling so big that their cheeks bunch up and this is what Zayn needed, definitely.

"Beta," Yaser greets, curling an arm around his shoulder as he nods towards the little one. "Meri pota."

Mahaad flushes, nuzzling close to Zayn's neck as Yaser tickles fingers under his chin. The familiar scent of his father’s cologne fills his nose and Zayn pushes a bit closer to him to soak it in.

"Just like your Baba," Yaser hums fondly before pecking a kiss to Zayn's forehead. "Alright?"

Zayn looks up at him, giving him a jerky shrug before Safaa is pulling Yaser away to slide her fingers against Mahaad's cheeks. The boy lets him go, easily climbing into Safaa's embrace.

“ _Pupo_ ,” he whispers, nuzzling his face into her neck. A grin tugs at Zayn’s lips as he watches them. His little sister has gotten so tall and grown that it is hard to believe it is her sometimes, the same girl who seemed so small when he had held her when she came home for the first time, or even when they were older, and Safaa used to follow him around everywhere and barely came up to his elbow.

"Oh you've gotten so big," she coos, rocking his youngest.

Yaser slides his fingers through Bash's hair, a smile on his lips that Zayn recognizes from the way Yaser looks at him. "Where's your Papa?"

Zayn grimaces as he curls his arm around his mother, sinking into her embrace as he bites his tongue and wills the tears away. She wears the same perfume she has worn all of his life, and his nose fills with the scent of her apple shampoo when he digs his chin into her shoulder. And it is overwhelming, the way he realizes how badly he needed to hug her.

"It's okay, sunshine," she coos, rubbing his back as she pulls away some. "Come inside. I've missed you."

"Missed you too, Mummy."

She pats his cheek softly. "Let's get some food in you. Looking a bit frail, my love."

Zayn presses his smile to her forehead before he pulls away to follow behind his oldest inside.

"- yeah, Baba kidnapped Clark -"

Yaser snorts, eyebrows raising up high as he glances back at Zayn. Maira has her tiny fist tangled into Yaser’s shirt, looking up at him with big bright eyes. "Did he really?"

Bashar nods seriously as he hops onto the steps leading up to the front door. "Yeah, Papa said just for me. Isn't he the coolest, like a superhero."

 

The plate of food his mother makes for him is so heavy that he grimaces slightly when she places it into his hands. He takes cautious steps as he carries it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. Mahaad waits for him, peering over the granite and Zayn knows there is an excited smile on his lips as he eyes the plate in Zayn’s hand.

“Want some?” Zayn whispers, setting it on the counter before he helps Mahaad onto the stool beside his own. “I’ve got ‘nuff here to feed the whole family. Papa's _and_ mine.”

Mahaad giggles, grabbing from the plate before Zayn can finish pushing it between them. “Naan,” he sighs happily before shoving the bread into his mouth.

Tricia laughs fondly as she comes over with a fork for him. “Reminds me of you. Quiet, a cuddler. And that Maira, quite like her Papa, isn't she?"

Zayn grins softly as he nods, watching Mahaad as his cheeks bulge with bread. She is off with Yaser, having planted herself to his side and refused to come with Zayn into the kitchen.

Tricia runs a finger under his chin before resting her palm against his cheek. “What’s making your heart heavy, love?”

He scoops a heaping of food into his mouth, shrugging slightly and avoiding the concerned look in her eyes. He doesn’t think he will ever have the strength to tell them, and he tries to figure out something else to say.

“Did you and Baba ever hit a bump so big, you thought maybe like, I dunno, you wouldn’t be able to get over it?”

Tricia gives him a considerate look, wiping her hands against the apron hugged tightly around her waist. “Well, yes. But looking back at it now, it doesn’t seem like it had been as big as it was at the time.”

Zayn sighs, cupping the back of Mahaad’s head as his lips open wide so Zayn can feed him a piece of almond chicken. He doesn’t tell her that it is something of a big deal, and he suspects no amount of years could change that.

“I was pregnant with Waliyha,” Tricia starts, leaning on the granite some. “We were both on edge, your father and I. Bickerin’ all the time about nothing, really. Stole the blankets from me in the middle of the night - we argued, you and Doniya played too loudly - we argued. For weeks, it was like that.”

Zayn nods, the shake in his fingers visible as pieces of rice fall off the edge of the fork as he feeds Mahaad another bite. “How did you um, fix it?”

Tricia shrugs, her eyes bright with a smile. “I don’t know, really. We just did. Put more of an emphasis on the little good things for awhile, instead of the little annoying things.”

“I don’t think that is the same for Liam and I. S’not really just like, a little thing.”

He feels the heat of his face, the pressure building around his eyes and his temples as his mother coos and pats his cheek again. Mahaad’s eyes get wide and he climbs into Zayn’s lap instantly, muttering something he can’t hear from the way his heart beats loudly against his eardrums.

Mahaad picks up a piece of naan bread, pressing it to Zayn’s lips. “I didn’t eat all’it, look.”

Zayn lets out a watery laugh, parting his lips some to take a bite even though he feels sick now. Mahaad wraps his arms tightly around Zayn’s neck after he makes Zayn eat another piece.

“Oh love,” Tricia says, coming around the island to wrap her arms around the two of them.  She presses her lips to his temple, humming softly. “Whatever it is, you will get past it. I know it - call it mother’s intuition.”

Mahaad pulls away, patting his fingers against Zayn’s cheek and furrowing his brows at how wet they are. He pushes a finger at the corner of his lips before he uses his other to do the same on the other side of Zayn’s lips.

“Remember how big you smile wimme,” Mahaad mumbles, grinning some when he pushes Zayn’s lips into a smile. “Like this.”

When he pulls his fingers away the smile stays on his lips, even if it doesn’t reach his heart.

++

His parents have set up Doniya’s old room for Bashar and Mahaad, who tangle their legs together under her old purple comforter and Bash curls an arm under Mahaad’s head to pull him close. Mahaad is already asleep, having knocked out on Yaser’s lap while they waited for Waliyha to arrive after work. She lives a few towns away and Zayn suspects his mother called her down to make him feel better.

(And Doniya is arriving tomorrow and Zayn really isn’t sure how this became a family reunion of sorts but he definitely needs it.)

“You know which room I’m going to be in?” Zayn asks quietly as not to wake Mahaad. “If you or bhai wake up during the night?”

Bashar nods, patting his lips as he yawns. “Yes, the one with the Batman stickers on the door 'course.”

Zayn laughs softly, smacking a kiss to his forehead. "Of course."

He gives him a long look, rubbing his thumb against Mahaad's hairline before he speaks again.

"Did Papa make you feel better today?"

Bashar rolls over some, curling closer to his little brother. "Yeah."

"What did he say?"

Bashar slides his other arm over Mahaad's belly, shrugging some. "Said you saved Clark f'me so he wouldn't go away with someone else. But kidnapping is bad, so you and Papa were fightin'."

Zayn grins sadly, just a quick quirk of the lips as he slides his fingers through Bashar's hair and watches his eyes heavy, brows pushing together.

"But I don't think it was bad, Baba."

"It is," Zayn laughs quietly, craning forward to knock their foreheads together as he taps at the boy's round cheek. "But for you, I would do anything."

Bashar kisses his nose before snuggling back to his little brother. Zayn watches them for a bit, trying to hold onto the feeling in his chest because his two boys make them feel like he can breathe again for a moment.

Zayn shuffles out of the room when Maira peeks her head into it, her voice a tiny squeak dragging his attention away from them and allowing him to take another breath.

He scoops her into his arms and carries her down the stairs instead of to his old room where she will sleep with him tonight.

“Don’t tell your brothers,” Zayn whispers quietly. “Wanna stay up with Baba?”

Maira giggles softly, but her eyes are heavy and she rests her cheek against his shoulder. She has been running around the backyard with Yaser all day, giggling like mad as he chased her with his hands shaped like claws, jumping onto his back and wrestling him as he had pretended to be defeated.

He joins his sisters on the couch in the living room, sinking into the back of it and wrapping his arms around Maira’s back as she shifts against him to get comfortable. Waliyha coos, tickling fingers against her cheek that she smiles tiredly at.

“Liam just called,” Waliyha tells him, tilting her head to the side. “Tried to ask him what’s going on, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

“M’not going to either,” Zayn mumbles, grinning some. He feels numb, his heart beating lazily because it ran out of strength hours ago. His mind keeps wandering to Liam, and to where he is, or who he is with and his body is just too tired to react to those thoughts anymore. “Not yet.”

Waliyha sighs apathetically, sliding her fingers Maira’s hair. “I’ve got a shoulder waiting for when you’re ready.”

++

_“Uncle Lou!”_

Zayn rips his eyes away from the top of Maira’s hair to follow Bash’s voice. She sits between his legs, fussing as he tries to braid her hair and making it impossible for him to get them neat. She scrambles up when Bash’s feet pound towards the front door, following behind him.

“Do not go in the road,” Zayn yells as he watches Bashar take off and towards where Louis’ car is parked behind Zayn’s, half of it in the street in front of the house.

“I’ve come to kidnap that father of yours,” he hears Louis say as he rubs his fingers through Bash’s hair. Bash nods his head, winking at him before he glances at Zayn, who pads across the lawn.

Maira’s curls are crazy on the side of her head not braided, and Louis runs his fingers through them, chuckling softly. The scruff on his chin is a bit thicker than Zayn remembers, his hair shorter than the messy look he had been going for a few months ago and slicked back into a neat quiff. An amused grin takes over his lips when he eyes Zayn and Zayn rolls his eyes even though his heart jumps into his throat because he has missed Louis.

“Hey you daft fuck,” Louis whispers quietly so only he can hear. “I had a beefy man child that belongs to you at my house all night. And a dog?”

“Lou,” Zayn starts, rolling his eyes as he hugs him tightly. He is kind of relieved that Liam stayed with Louis, but it doesn’t make him feel much better.

“M’ taking you out,” Louis goes on as he starts to follow Zayn inside. “And before you say anything, I already asked Safaa to watch the kids.”

Zayn gives him a hard look, groaning internally because Louis has that expression on his face that tells him that he isn’t going to take no for an answer. “Louis, I’m not really feelin’ up to it. Plus, Doniya is coming and I haven’t seen her -”

Louis waves him off. “Trust me, you’ll want to go to this. I helped plan an event for some high end art dealer, real classy stuff.”

Zayn crumples a frown at him as he shuts the door behind them all. “You haven’t mentioned that, before.”

“Surprise,” Louis says, wiggling his fingers at him. He looks around with a frown. “Now where is my wee one?”

Like he knows he is being called, Mahaad comes jetting through the room, feet stomping against the ground before he topples onto to Louis. Louis stumbles back some, laughing fondly as he pulls Mahaad in for a hug.

Safaa slowly catches up with him before she slides an arm around Zayn’s shoulders. “You’re going.”

Zayn pouts at her, lips parting to to voice his refusal but she cuts him off before he can.

“Mum has already started cooking. Get out now.”

++

“Lou,” Zayn complains, sliding his palms down the dress jacket Louis had practically forced him to put on. It is brand new and fits him perfectly. “How much did this cost you?”

Louis shrugs, doing up the buttons of his dress shirt. He grins, mischief in his eyes and Zayn just has a bad feeling about the whole thing. He doesn’t even want to go out, he wants to be curled up on his parents’ couch with his little ones but Louis insisted they won’t be out too late, and if he doesn’t like the event he is allowed to leave early.

Which he knows he will.

Zayn fingers his pocket scarf, his heart twisting uncomfortably because it reminds him of the one Liam wore during their wedding rehearsals, a blue, white and black speckled one that had matched the dress shirt Zayn had wore that night.

"Does it make me pathetic," Zayn mumbles after a moment of staring at the material. "That I want to be with Liam even if he has been with someone else?"

Louis sighs, brows furrowing together as he comes close. He reaches up, smoothing out Zayn's hair which he had shaped into a loose quiff earlier after they had arrived at his flat.

Zayn had admitted what was going on during the ride to his house, in a shaky nervous breath and Louis hadn't laughed like Zayn had expected, but he had insisted that it was all in Zayn's head.

"No," Louis says seriously. "Come on, let's go. No more of those thoughts."

Zayn tries not to think about it as he gets into the car, but his eyes stay stitched to his lap during the drive, where his hands are held together. He stares at the ring, feeling the burn of the engraving on the inner part against his skin - _love you, love you forever._

He knows Liam meant - means it, still. He just -

"Stop," Louis says suddenly, turning down a road that seems familiar but Zayn isn't sure why. "Because I'm a second away from ruining the surprise just to make you feel better and I promised I wouldn't."

"What?" Zayn says, furrowing his brows.

"Nothing," Louis says, giving him a frustrated look. "I just know what you're thinking, and Liam loves you more than anything, okay? You'll see."

Zayn exhales, resting back against the seat as they pull into an empty parking lot around the back of the venue. It appears to be massive, like it holds a stadium of sorts inside.

"Nobody is here," Zayn mumbles, frowning some as he looks harder at the building because it seems familiar.

"We're sneaking through the back," Louis says with a glint of mischief in his eye. "Nice place, wait until you see -"

Zayn inhales sharply when he remembers, shuffling in through the front with a crowd of his classmates around him and being frustrated because he had to sit so far away from Liam because their seats were set up in alphabetical order and by major. The all full, black suit he wore, which was a dumb idea because he had been sweating buckets underneath his gown.

"Lou," Zayn says accusingly, stitching himself back to the seat as he narrows his eyes at his best mate. Louis undoes his seatbelt as he opens the door, apparently ignoring Zayn.

"Is this a joke?" Zayn asks, following him out of the car. He is irritated, a bit like he wants to shove Louis because sometimes he doesn't know when to quit playing games.

"No," Louis says, rolling his eyes in annoyance as he walks towards the building. "Just come on, yeah?"

Zayn's mind whirs, tears pricking at his eyelids from frustration because he doesn't understand why Louis would bring him, and it is muting the tiny voice at the back of his mind that is trying to tell him he already knows why.

Louis grabs Zayn's elbow to tug him through a staff only entrance that is unlocked. It leads to a bright, white painted hallway where he can see a few doors that lead to locker rooms.

"Come on," Louis laughs, tugging his elbow. His face is lit up with amusement, unlike Zayn's which is more panic ridden. "Why do you look like I'm leading you to die."

"Knowing you -"

Louis scoffs, pulling him around a corner and stopping him when he is in front of two gym doors with their windows blacked out. Zayn inhales, hearing the muffled chatter from behind the doors but he can't make out anything distinct. There is a man waiting by them, dressed up in a suit and tie and broad shoulders like a bouncer.

“Could you please tell Mr. Payne that I have arrived and I've brought the package, please?"

“Mr. Payne?” Zayn starts, stiffening some as he realizes. “Louis, what the hell is going on -”

Louis just grins, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips as he claps Zayn on the back. “I told you, Zaynie. You’re completely, daft. Go on and walk through those doors.”

Zayn eyes them suspiciously before he shakes his head. “No.”

Louis rolls his eyes, giving him a hard shove forward. “I had my best event planner set this up, which caused me a lot of stress because I’m worthless without Sophia, so be a grateful man and move -"

Before Zayn can ask what he means, or how he knows Sophia, the doors open, slowly revealing the room behind them. Zayn can only look at the two unfamiliar men holding each one for a brief moment before his eyes fall onto someone extremely familiar.

He stands in the middle of the room, in front of the stage he had stood on all those years ago, two crowds on either side of the room. A black suit clings to his body, over a shirt made out of the same pattern as Zayn's pocket square, his hair curled and perfected into a high quiff. There is a clear pathway between the two of them, and Zayn stares at his husband for a moment before Louis is shoving him forward.

He stumbles, eyes connected with Liam. A rush of emotions hit him that he can’t differentiate between, and he looks around, watery eyes scanning over his three little ones, wearing bright smiles and bouncing on their feet. Bashar and Mahaad wear suits identical to Liam's, and Maira's dress matches the pattern.

Standing behind them are his family and Liam’s, tears already slipping down Liam's mum's cheeks, Geoff's arm around her shoulders and a warm smile on his face.

On the other side he spots Niall and Harry, and Louis who joins them with a smug grin on his lips and a bucket load of other people he knows, many he grew up with like Danny and Ant, his aunties and uncles, and the woman who had helped them find a surrogate.

There is a screen behind Liam, playing a slideshow of drawings that Zayn recognizes as Bashar's work and his own, the drawing of Bashar on Liam's chest, one of Maira and Mahaad curled on Zayn's lap.

It changes as Zayn takes another step forward, into a video that Zayn has watched a million times over the years. A younger Liam appears on the screen, wearing his wedding tux and a nervous smile before the band behind him starts to play their wedding song.

" _Jaan_ -"

Zayn can hear his mother coo somewhere to his right as he trains his eyes back on Liam, his husband's eyes still planted on him as the screen Liam starts to sing _. I wanna give you so much, for the things that you give to me -_

Liam clears his throat, the corner of his lips quirking up some. “About eleven years ago, I met the love of my life.”

Zayn huffs out a shaky breath, twisting his fingers into the bottom of his dress jacket. Liam's fingers shake noticeably too, and with their wedding song playing around them, Zayn feels like he is marrying Liam for a second time. _Just take my love, baby, because you are so dear to me -_

“My Baba!” Maira screams before she breaks out into giggles and the crowd around them laughs in response.

“Yeah,” Liam huffs out. His words come out choked as he continues to speak. “He always tells me I’m a dork when I tell him this, but like, when I first saw him I knew I was going to marry him. Felt it in my bones."

Zayn lets out a watery laugh, his frustration dying out as he makes sense of where he is, what is going on - the event Liam has been planning all this time.

He just wants to wrap himself around his husband like a koala and pepper apologetic kisses to his face.

"Soulmates of sorts, I reckon."

His pace quickens some, no longer unsure or caring of everyone around him as Liam smiles again, lips pushing up high into his cheeks and eyes falling closed around the tears that brim at his eyelids. He just needs to be close, needs to feel the warmth of his skin and show him how sorry he is.

"Took me 'bout a year to get you to see too. But I would have waited longer if you needed me to."

He reaches for Zayn the moment he is close enough, fingers pushing past Zayn's cheeks to tug him forward for a quick peck on the lips like Liam needs it and can't wait. _I will give you my all and all, over and over again -_

It isn't enough, but he doesn't push for more as Liam continues to cup his cheeks.

“Do you remember?” Liam says softly, fingers scraping down the side of his face as his voice echoes throughout the room from the microphone pinned to the lapel of his jacket. “All those questions you asked me because you were nervous? Like the one about where do I see myself in ten years?”

Zayn nods, feeling his face warm from embarrassment because he had been dramatic and Liam had been patient. He is the opposite of everything Zayn is, but they have always made it work -

Like soulmates, or whatever.

"Do you remember what my response was?"

Zayn smiles as Liam wipes a tear from his cheek, nodding. “Raising a family with you.”

Liam nods, teeth sliding against his bottom lip before he speaks again. “You asked me how could I be sure? That I wouldn’t change my mind?”

“And you said  -”

_Just trust me, Zed. And ten years from now, you’ll see and I’ll promise you again -_

The memory floats through his mind and he nuzzles into Liam’s palm, eyes closing as the tears slip down his cheeks. He feels like a fool, really.

“Yeah,” Liam sighs. “But I can’t promise another ten years.”

Zayn stiffens for a moment, taking in Liam’s soft expression and the smile that doesn’t match the tears in his eyes.

“I’m going to need you to let me be around for forever, or no deal.”

Zayn huffs out a watery laugh, sliding his palms against Liam’s hips as the crowd’s laugh vibrates around them.

"Because," Liam goes on, the words choked. He lets go of Zayn's cheeks to take his hand, a tremor running through his fingers that he can feel against his knuckles. "I don't know what the future has in store for me."

Time slows as Liam eases to a knee, the air around them turning solid and pressing heavily against Zayn's shoulders. It feels ridiculous, because they are already married but he thinks maybe he falls in love with his dorky over the top husband a little more.

"But I do know who I want beside me, to take on whatever life has in store for me."

Liam slides his thumb over Zayn's ring before he presses his lips to it, the memory of Liam’s first proposal echoing through his mind.

"Wanna marry me or summat?" Zayn whispers quietly, making Liam choke out a laugh and beam up at him.

"Or summat," Liam says. "Raise eight more kids, get a couple dogs - maybe a cat or five. I would marry you every day if I could -"

Zayn bends down and presses his lips to Liam's to quiet him, because he isn't sure he can take much more. It reminds him there are people around as they clap and holler, Maira's voice beating them all in trying to be the loudest.

Liam pushes up, keeping a hand around the back of Zayn's head so their lips stay connected. He curls an arm around his shoulder, keeping him supported as he bends Zayn back like he did during their first dance to the same song -

_Whatever you need, my heart belongs to you. Whatever you need, there's nothing I won't do -_

They rock back and forth slowly as the people around them move onto the floor, tiny arms coming to slide around Zayn's waist and a boyish giggle pressed to his side. Maira takes up their other side and Zayn watches as Safaa twirls Bashar a few feet away from them.

"Were you surprised?" Liam asks, biting around his grin as Zayn nods and he tugs off the microphone. "It was hard not to tell you but Bash and I have been planning it for months, I really wanted to surprise you."

"I'm an idiot," Zayn mumbles, resting their foreheads together.

Liam chuckles softly, sliding a palm against his cheek. "Yeah, but I love you."

Zayn tries to frown but it doesn't work, not with his family surrounding him and the warmth spreading across his chest.

"You two planned this for months?"

Liam nods, sliding his fingers through Maira's hair as she lets go of him and tugs Mahaad away to dance with her. "Yeah, had the venue for awhile. I was only coming up here to get everything in order. I reckoned your mum would spoil the surprise because you were upset. I was going to."

Zayn shakes his head, nibbling at his bottom lip. "Didn't tell her why."

Liam tickles his fingers against the back of his neck, brows furrowing together. "I'm sorry, babe. I should have just told you. Blurted it out, made you listen."

Zayn lets out a wounded noise before he pecks Liam's lips. "Don't apologize, you're perfect and I don't deserve you."

Liam snorts, eyes bright. "There's no one else that can compare to you, love."

Zayn slides his arms around his shoulders, wishing there wasn't that lingering pain in his chest. "Maybe someone who doesn't forget how good of a man you are." Husband, father -

Liam only smiles, making Zayn frown more. "Gives me a reason to go overboard about how much I love you," he jokes gently. "Because I love you a lot babe, every part of you."

Zayn groans lowly, pulling back to face him. "See what I mean? I don't -"

Liam cuts him off with a shake of his head and his lips hard against his own. It makes the breath catch in his lungs, his heart throb in a way he had been terrified that he was going to miss.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Karen says from beside them, making them jerk apart. "But I would like a dance with my son in law -"

The corner of Zayn's lips tug up instantly, his hand going for her waist as Liam makes a noise of complaint but let's them go anyway. The crinkles by her eyes deepen as she smiles and pats his cheek.

"I've been listening to that husband of yours gush on and on about you for years," she teases. Zayn grins, eyeing Liam quickly just to see the flush he knows is spreading across his cheeks. "Never get tired of it."

Zayn chuckles softly, linking their fingers together as the song changes into another, just as slow. Liam’s attention turns away from them as he spots Maira, padding over her while her back is turned to scoop her into her arms.

"And the way you look at him," she says softly, tilting her head some. Her smile reminds him of Liam, the way her eyes crinkle though a bit deeper than her son's. "I couldn't be happier he found you."

“Everything I love about him, he gets from you, you know,” Zayn teases, wiggling his brow as he turns his mother in law.

Zayn gets passed between their guests, Geoff taking him away from Karen as she starts to cry, to Liam's aunt who gushes on about how much Maira looks like Liam's grandfather, to Yaser, who pouts about having to stop dancing with Liam and Maira but Zayn doesn’t take offense, to -

"Sunshine," Tricia greets softly, taking his hand from his father's. It makes him choke on his tears even more, as he had been trying to keep them from flooding down his cheeks, even though he has always been shit at that.

"Mummy," Zayn says, folding his hand over hers before placing his other on her waist.

"Your father," she starts, grinning softly as if she is remembering something. "Used to write me notes before we first started dating. They always started with an apology, _I'm sorry I don't know how to express myself properly, but I reckon I fancy you enough to try_. Always worried about me not being able to see how much he loved me, that man did."

Zayn nods when she goes quiet for a moment, a fond look on her face as she pats his cheek. "All I had to do was look at his face, and I knew."

Zayn squeezes her fingers, glancing over her shoulder to where Liam holds Mahaad and twirls him around. Mahaad's expression is set serious as he speaks, but Liam looks like his face is about to break from laughter.

"I reckon that is why you look so much like your Baba tonight, my love."

++

"Jaan,” Zayn whispers in his husband’s ear, pressing his palm to the bottom of Liam's spine where he stands at the edge of the dance floor. Mahaad looks at him from over his Papa's shoulder, face brightening considerably.

Liam tries to turn to look at him, but Zayn's lips go to his cheek, peppering soft kisses against his skin that make their youngest giggle and wrinkle his nose.

"Care for another dance?" Zayn murmurs, lips quirking up some as Liam turns to slide an arm against his waist. Zayn's fingers automatically go to Mahaad, even though Liam is easily able to hold him with one arm.

"Look Papa," Mahaad interrupts, pushing a finger against Zayn's cheek. "Tol' you he smile like that wimme."

Liam glances between them before frowning at their son. "Tryin' to make me jealous or summat?"

There is a look of mischief glowing in his eyes when he looks back at his Papa, nodding with his lip trapped between his teeth.

Liam pretends to bite his cheek, growling at him and making both Mahaad and Zayn giggle.

"Beta, you want to dance with Papa and I?" Zayn chuckles, sliding his hand against Mahaad's back as he wrenches away from Liam's kiss.

"Actually," Liam says, glancing at his watch and wiggling his brows. "I reckon it is about time for dinner. Save me a dance for after?"

They move into another room off of the first, made into a dining hall with round tables that have blue and white floral arrangements in the center of them. There are boards set up all around the room, covered in photographs of them and their family. Some of them Zayn recognizes from their home and the photo albums they have created over the years, or ones from their parents' houses, some from their extended family that he doesn't recognize of Liam and him as little kids.

They sit at a table in the front of the room with their children and their parents, their sisters sat at the table beside them.

Zayn inhales sharply as he spots the photograph from their refrigerator, the one of Liam, him and the three little ones, sitting between the flowers in the middle of their table.

"Babe," Zayn softly, sliding a finger against the photo as if it is something fragile. There is a fire in his chest that makes him feel as if he could suffocate from it and this time he doesn't want the feeling to go away.

"Bashar's idea," Liam mumbles, lips quirking up. He indicates their oldest who sits beside Zayn with a nod of his head.

Bashar flushes, pulling his eyes away from Zayn and back towards the photograph.

"Papa told me you helped plan this," Zayn says softly, scratching his fingers through his hair. "Thank you beta, you did a great job."

His round cheeks burn even more as he bites around his smile.

"Bash, wanna show Baba what else you did?" Liam asks, leaning past Zayn to look at him as waiters start to pour out into the room with enough food to feed at least four times their party size.

Bashar's eyes widen with excitement before he is pushing off his seat without word.

"You're going to cry," Liam chuckles softly as he tucks his chin towards his shoulder. "I picked the kids up from your mum's when he showed me the finished piece and everyone had a laugh about how hard I cried."

Zayn wrinkles his nose, confused but still fond of the way Liam looks so adorable. “What is it?”

Liam wiggles his eyebrows. “A surprise.”

Bashar comes back after only a few moments, carrying a bulky black binder that he hands to Zayn before he sits back down in his seat.

The cover reads _Zayn and Liam_ , in neat, cursive writing. The title sits above the drawing Zayn had done of his ring, and of another ring that must be Liam's drawn beside it.

"That is why he had my ring so often," Liam says quietly, sliding his finger over the drawing of his ring. "A bit like you, needing to do it over and over again until it was perfect."

Zayn only nods, his throat tight as he hesitates to open the binder because he isn't sure if his heart can handle the amount of emotion that is going to consume it. He tries to ignore the guilt that consumes him too, the memories of thinking Liam had been lying to him when he had been telling the truth the whole time.

"Papa said it was okay to lie about making it for him," Bash says quietly, eyes wide as he looks at Zayn through his eyelashes. "Because it wasn't a bad lie, but a lie for a surprise that would make you really happy."

Liam's cheeks burn red as he narrows his eyes at Bashar and tries to fight off the smile on his lips. "Don't rat me out!"

"It's okay, love," Zayn assures his son, not fighting his own fond smile. Liam's palm slides against his thigh under the table, his thumb a gentle pressure as it draws shapes against his skin through his pants like he knows about the guilt that is running through him..

There are pages and pages of drawings, mostly done by Bashar and a few stick figures done by Liam that makes their son giggle when he tells Zayn about them. Little pieces of their life, put together in a binder and Zayn lets out an overwhelmed breath every time he sees a new one -

"See," Bashar says, flipping to a page signed by Mahaad and Liam. "Papa and Mahaad drew this ones."

There are five stick figures holding hands, standing on a field of green and a sun drawn in the corner. Springs of curls stick out from the kids' head and Liam's quiff is so high it nearly touches the sun.

"I can see, we are floating off the grass," Zayn teases playfully, squeezing Liam's fingers.

"Hey," Liam says in mock offense. "Maira drew the grass. Before I drew us -"

He mumbles the last part, making Zayn smother his laugh against his lips. "Adorable, babe."

So adorable, Zayn feels like he might explode from the way it makes him feel.

Bashar flips to the second to last page, revealing the picture Zayn drew of him on Liam's chest. There are tiny words scribbled at the top in Bash's writing, _"why Baba loves Papa -"_

Liam squeezes his thigh, lips coming to press against his cheekbone. "Cried when I saw that, too," he admits quietly.

Zayn bites at his bottom lip, staring at the page. There is so much more he could have drawn -

Bash flips to the last page, " _why Papa loves Baba -"_

In Liam's messy handwriting there is the word _'everything_ ' scribbled in the middle of the page, right above a drawing of the Earth.

"Shit at drawing," Liam mumbles as Zayn slides his fingers against the word. "But you get it, right - like my world -"

Zayn lets out a shaky breath before he turns his head and presses his lips to his husband’s. This time Bashar doesn't make a noise of disgust but giggles with his sister who sits beside him.

Zayn flattens his palm against Liam's cheek, pulling back for a moment to just take in his soft expression, the flush of his cheeks and the insecure, but warm way he looks at Zayn.

"I love everything about you too," Zayn says softly after a moment. "And I'm going to learn from you how to show you that -"

Liam shakes his head to cut off his words, reaching for the binder to flip back to the previous page. "You do show me it. You trusted me with your world -"

He slides his thumb against the drawing of Bash, a fond smile on his lips before he looks back at Zayn.

"Oh my," Karen huffs out, dragging their attention away from each other. Her fingers press over her mouth as she watches them, and Zayn feels his cheeks flush considerably.

Yaser stands up then, chuckling softly as he raises his champagne glass and taps it with his fork. He looks amused when he looks back at Zayn.

"To my boy," he starts, nodding his head towards Zayn. "And his. I have liked this one from day one, beta. Remember how scared he was when we met -"

"Yaser," Tricia interrupts, grabbing his arm. Her other hand wraps around her lips to muffle the sound of her laugh. Liam flushes, and Zayn slides a hand across his lap to squeeze gently at his thigh to comfort him.

"Right," Yaser laughs, raising his glass. "To you, my son, Liam and those three beautiful babies. I can't wait for a fourth -"

Zayn's jerks, his eyes wide as he glances between his dad and Liam with a questioning look. Liam just shrugs, a guilty look crossing his features.

"I love them too," Maira cheers, scrambling to stand up in her seat with her fingers tangled around Geoff's for support. She raises her fork before pointing it to them. "I love Baba because he always hold me real tight and I love Papa because he is funny -"

Zayn snorts, leaning his head against Liam as Liam slides their fingers together on his lap.

"And Baba makes the best cereal and Papa always lets me watch cartoons -"

She goes on and on, making the crowd laugh until Geoff is gently coaxing her back into her seat. She huffs out a breath, wiping the curls from her forehead like she is exhausted.

Mahaad stands up next, a nervous look crossing his face and eyes worried as he looks at his parents. Liam has a hand on his back and their son grabs tightly at his arm.

"Me too," he chirps before hurriedly sitting back down, his cheeks burning red.

Liam chuckles, pressing his lips to the boy's temple.

++

"You still sad, Baba?" Bashar yawns as Zayn straps him into the backseat of Safaa's car. He smiles tiredly, his eyes heavy with the sleep he had been so good at fighting off. It is late for him, nearly ten and the twins had fallen asleep an hour ago, hidden underneath their dinner table and curled around each other.

(Zayn had panicked slightly when he couldn't find them, but Liam had been calm, chuckling in his ear as he lifted up the tablecloth.)

"No," Zayn promises, folding a palm over his cheek. Liam's hands are on his back, tickling up the back of his dress shirt as he waits for Zayn to finish saying goodnight. "Never been happier."

"Good," Bashar breathes, plopping a kiss to Zayn's cheek. "Me too."

"Sleep well, beta. Be good, okay?"

He doesn't respond as his eyes fall shut. Zayn presses another kiss between his brows before he pulls away from the car.

"You ready?" Liam mumbles, sliding his fingers under Zayn's jaw to pull him in for a kiss.

"You could wait until I leave, you know," Safaa laughs, coming in between them to wrap her arms around Zayn. "Be good tonight, you two."

"No promises," Liam says lowly, his lips still close to Zayn's skin.

Zayn chuckles under his breath, slipping his fingers against the dress shirt that clings to Liam's belly as Safaa walks away. "What do you have planned, Mr. Malik?"

Liam grins, and once again it feels like the world is empty except for the small space they occupy, the cars around them disappearing, the cool night air no longer breezing against his skin because he has Liam to warm it.

"Come on," is all Liam says before he slips an a around Zayn's back to guide him to the car. "You know Louis said he would watch Clark tonight?"

Zayn gives his husband a look of disbelief, snuggling closer to his side. "What did you bribe him with?"

Liam's cheek presses against the top of his head, his laugh a bit nervous like. "Um - that he could introduce you to Sophia."

Zayn rolls his eyes, the name still tugging at his chest even though he knows better now. "He's an arse."

"Your best mate," Liam says as they approach his truck and he reaches to open the passenger door.

Liam takes him to a hotel a few miles away, a fancy one with valet parking and glass chandeliers. A receptionist who knows Liam by name and wiggles her eyebrows when she hands him the key to the honeymoon suite.

"You spoil me too much," Zayn whispers as Liam unlocks the door to their room.

"Wait 'till you see," Liam teases, both eyes flicking shut as he winks.

He guides them inside and it is huge, just from what he can see from the entrance. There are floor to ceiling windows across from him, where he can see the lights of the city that outshine the glow of light from the fireplace. Music plays from somewhere, so softly that Zayn can barely make out the _for tonight is just your night -_

"Liam," Zayn breathes out, eyeing the king bed to the left and the way it's white duvet is coated in rose petals. They scatter across the ground towards them, and he had missed them at first because of the dim lighting of the room. Candles cover the surfaces around the bed, making it seem as if there was a spotlight on it.

Liam grins, sliding his hand around the back of Zayn's neck, his eyes flickering down to his lips. "Like it? There is even a jacuzzi tub we could use -"

Zayn groans lowly at his words, pressing their foreheads together. Liam takes it the wrong way, grinning more as he tilts his head to kiss him.

"Do we um," Zayn starts, tugging at Liam's dress shirt so it is no longer tucked into his pants. "Do we have a date at Christopher's?"

Liam stops trying to push him backwards toward the bed, looking at him with a frown. "Louis promised he wouldn't say anything, bloody bas-"

"Actually," Zayn interrupts, face feeling on fire and his teeth dragging roughly against his bottom lip out of habit. He uses the buttons on Liam's shirt as an excuse not to look at his husband. "I saw your texts and um, thought you were going with her and that is why I got upset -"

Liam doesn't respond at first, only curls his arms around Zayn's shoulders and steps him back some more, closer to bed. The music grows louder in his ears, but the _I'll make love to you, how you want me to is_ is still a whisper that sends a shiver down Zayn's spine.

"Promise me you will tell me, next time?"

Zayn looks up at him, smoothing his palms up the newly revealed expanse of skin. "I will try." He doesn’t want there to be a next time, he wants to be better -

He slides his arms under the shirt and around his back, trying to press closer to Liam though they are already stitched together. So close he can feel the beat of Liam's heart against his chest, playing out a rhythm that matches his own.

"Did you see what else I had planned?"

Zayn's eyes widen. "Nialler's, tonight and Christopher's? What else babe? That is already ten times the amount I've done."

Liam grins, fingers tangling his hair at the nape of his neck. "You can have the wedding anniversary next month."

Zayn rolls his eyes, tugging Liam forward as he feels the edge of the bed press to his knees.

Liam guides them down carefully, a bit of n awkward position with Zayn's feet on the floor still but it is perfect really, with the heavy weight of Liam on top of him.

"Thanks for the short notice."

Liam giggles, tucking his face in Zayn's neck to press his lips there. "Well do you want to know what else I have planned?"

Zayn nibbles on his bottom lip because of the way Liam's voice drops an octave. He curls his fingers under the collar of Liam's shirt, tugging on it so he will get the hint to remove it.

Liam pushes up, lips brushing against his own. The candles reflect in his eyes, adding to the warmth that they already hold and making his pink cheeks glow, an assortment of golds and reds like he wants to be the sunset for Zayn because he always misses the sunrises.

"Gonna make love to you, babe."

Zayn moans softly, tilting his head to chase Liam's lips. "Did you tell her that?"

Liam laughs loudly as he climbs onto the bed more to straddle Zayn's lap. He misses him when he sits up, even though he gets to watch the bulge of Liam's muscles pop out as he takes his shirt the rest of the way off.

"Pretty much," he admits with an amused grin. "Told her I'm going to make good use of that jacuzzi with my love."

"Good," Zayn says seriously, pushing up. Liam's hand comes to his neck instantly, supporting him as he nudges their noses together. "But you got it wrong, babe. I'm going to make love to you tonight."

Liam shakes his, lips quirking up as he pushes Zayn back against the mattress. "No, I'm going to."

Zayn slides his hands across his belly, tickling against his skin. "Not if I beat you to it."

Liam's fingers slide against the buttons of Zayn's shirt before he is leaning forward to slot their lips together and keep Zayn quiet.

The scent of roses fill his nose as he scooches farther up the bed for comfort, keeping a hand on the back of Liam's neck just in case he tries to move his lips anywhere other than against his own. A heat builds in his belly as Liam's fingers work their way up his torso, pushing the shirt to the side as he goes.

Liam kisses like he is trying to stitch all his thoughts against Zayn's lips, like he is trying to curl his endearments behind his teeth and scatter _I love you's_ across his tongue. It causes his heart to race more so than the anticipation coursing through him, because Liam makes him feel loved no matter what it is he is doing, big or small -

"I love you," Zayn breathes out sharply as Liam's lips move away from his own. He mutters them against Liam's jaw, and again over the pulse of his heart beneath it.

"I love you," Liam hums, hips rolling down against his. There is far too many layer of clothes between them, and Zayn curls his fingers around Liam's belt loops to give him the hint to let him take it off, but he ignores it with another press of _I love you_ to his skin -

"Gotta get these pants off, babe," Zayn says roughly, palming Liam's arse through them. A groan rumbles in his husband's throat before he rolls off of him -

"Don't move," Liam says as he pushes off of the bed, his voice tight. He shucks his belt off and slowly eases his pants past his hips as he pads away from the bed.

Zayn doesn't listen, instead pushes up to remove the rest of his dress shirt and throw it across the room as Liam makes his way over to the bar. Zayn can hear him shuffling around and moving things, but the lights are too dim for him to see his husband from far away.

"Lay back down," Liam laughs as Zayn starts to push his own pants down his hips. It just feels as if the fabric is burning away at his skin and he can't wait for Liam to take them off for him.

"Well come back here then -"

Liam laughs again, a lovely sound that vibrates through the room louder than the music. He pads back over, a wine glass full of dark liquid in his hand and a bucket of ice with the wine bottle sat in it in the other. His pants are gone, gold thighs glowing underneath the candlelight.

"Taste this, babe. Tell me what you think?"

Zayn's brow wrinkles as he stares at where Liam sits at the edge of the bed, holding the glass towards him.

"Do you want me to lay or sit?" He asks playfully as he sits up. "Make up your mind."

Liam rolls his eyes, cupping the back of Zayn's neck to bring the wine glass to his lips. The sweet, smoky cedar wood flavor rolls across his tongue, making him feel even warmer than he did a second ago.  

"S'good, babe but -"

"Lay back down."

Zayn falls back without question, watching Liam place the glass on the bed's night stand before finally curling his fingers around Zayn's pants to tug them off.

He eases back on the bed, forearms enclosing Zayn's chest as he ducks forward.

Zayn moans shakily as something ice cold slides against his skin, numbing the feel of Liam's lips. A shiver works through him as Liam slides lower, the hard pressure of the ice cube in his mouth dragging down his belly and the drops of liquid trickling down his sides make his cock plump underneath it's confines.

"My body all over your body, babe," Liam hums along to the music, his mouth still cold as his lips kiss along the brim of his briefs.

"Get your body all over my body, babe," Zayn huffs out, overwhelmed from Liam's cool tongue pushing against his skin.

Liam snorts, pulling away from Zayn's to reach for the wine glass.

"Exact opposite of what I said -"

His words die off as he watches Liam tilt the glass towards his belly slowly, pouring the wine so the liquid pools in the ridges of his abdomen. It is cool against his skin, almost like the ice cube and the long exhale Zayn lets out breaks off into a moan when Liam’s chases the drop that slips down his side with his mouth.

Liam’s flattens his tongue, dragging it through the ridges and doing an awful job at keeping the wine from slipping down his skin and onto the white, crisp sheets. It had been white wine the night of their honeymoon, less of a problem -

Liam’s works his way back up Zayn’s chest, letting his own fall so it presses against his before his mouth is on Zayn’s, fingers catching at his jaw to tilt his head back farther into the mattress so he can kiss him deep. The sweet taste fills his tongue again, warming through his system though Zayn swears it is Liam that he will get drunk off of -

“I agree, s’good,” Liam murmurs, lips quirking up some but it doesn’t reach the dark look in his eyes. He slides a thumb against Zayn’s bottom lip as he moans, making the noise come out shattered.

Zayn flicks his tongue out in retaliation, one that backfires as Liam slides his finger against it to take it captive, adding a second before he gentles them into his mouth. Zayn grins as he closes his lips, watching those dark eyes blow out as he sucks Liam’s fingers into his mouth.

Liam groans low in his throat, hips arching against his own as he fucks his fingers into Zayn’s mouth slowly, kissing at the corner of his lips as he does. It is insanely erotic, making his features twist around his moan, eyes falling shut and brows pushing together like he has to focus on containing the arousal dancing through him.

When Liam pulls his fingers away it is when he rolls to Zayn’s side and replaces them with his lips, his other hand tickling down his wine stained belly. The music fades into white noise, his ears only filled with the groans humming in Liam’s throat and the whimpers he lets out as Liam cups him through his briefs.

Liam groans roughly when he curls his fingers around Zayn’s clothed cock, feeling how hard he has made him probably, the soaked through briefs and the way his cock pulses under his touch as it pushes out more precome. An energy sparks between them but it is relaxed at the edges, a calm settled around them that makes Zayn need Liam not to rush.

Liam doesn’t need to be told so, moving them again slowly so Zayn is back against the pillows, taking his time as he eases off Zayn’s briefs with his eyes latched onto the thick of his cock. And it is like he knew in advance what Zayn would need, as the music rolls into another song slow and erotic - _sex me, baby, baby -_

Like he knows how gentle Zayn needs it, the way he guides his legs apart with his fingers rubbing shapes against his knees instead of pressing in and pushing them apart. The way he breathes over Zayn but doesn’t push Zayn’s thighs back against his chest like he always does, because his strength always seems to be a bit hard to control when he wants a taste. But instead guides them back, with a smooth glide of his palm against the back of them.

“Jaan,” Zayn huffs out as he feels the cool of Liam’s spit slip down his hole. A finger nudges against him, circling the rim before he feels more spit roll against him.

Liam’s hot breath makes him shiver worse than the cold of the ice cube, breezing past his balls and against his thighs. He distracts Zayn with the graze of his teeth against the sensitive part of his thigh as he pushes the digit past the rim.

It is different this time, with Liam quiet and barely speaking to him like he normally does, mouth too busy against his skin where he presses moans against it like he wishes he could tattoo them against his skin. It makes him feel like he is burning on the inside, flames licking through his veins and crackling down his spine. The calm makes him feel satiated, his chest free of all ache -

When Liam slips his fingers away so does Zayn, dropping his legs against the bed and placing Liam onto it with palms against his chest. Liam goes with it, fingers sliding to his jaw as Zayn climbs up his body.

“Let me now,” Zayn whispers against his lips, like being too loud will shatter the calm.

Liam moans softly, letting go of Zayn’s jaw so he can sit straight. He reaches behind him, biting his lip to hold in the moan threatening to push past his tongue from how hard Liam feels against his palm.

Liam’s eyes are latched onto his, heavy lidded with a flushed look on his cheeks as Zayn eases his prick against him. Zayn goes slow, with Liam’s hands cradling his hips, just holding him as he rolls back to take more of him. Liam doesn’t look away, lip trapped between his teeth and holding Zayn’s own gaze hostage as he bottoms out.

He lets Zayn take over, allowing him to take his time to adjust until he can work himself on Liam’s cock without resistance, until his limbs quake and the hold of Liam’s gaze becomes too overwhelming -

Zayn moans out before he arches forward to slot their lips together, slowly fucking back onto Liam’s cock as his hands rub up and down his spine in sync with his hips. They press at his spine when Zayn sinks lower, like he needs to be as deep as possible, sliding up his spine when Zayn pulls almost all the way off -

Zayn tries to mimic the way Liam can make him feel so loved with a simple touch, circling shapes against his jaw and down his neck, but the throb of his cock against Liam’s belly and the way Liam’s prick nestles against his prostate every time he seats himself makes them dig into his skin. His body trembles with the way he tries to keep up the slow of his movements, wanting to drag out the feeling of Liam inside of him as long as possible but -

“Fuck,” Liam groans out over the sound of _oh how I like it, I try but I can’t fight it_ , hips coming up to meet Zayn’s like he can’t help it. Zayn lets him take over, digging his elbows into the mattress by Liam’s head and allowing him to thrust up into him as he hiccups his moans out against his lips.

Zayn rests their foreheads together, eyes falling shut to see the galaxy of stars against the back of them as Liam strokes into him quickly, desperately like he is close to toppling over the edge. Zayn cups his jaw, biting at his lips to taste the wrecked moan that breezes past them as he holds Zayn down against him. It shatters the calm but Zayn doesn’t care, too desperate himself -

Zayn circles his hips back against him, clenching around his prick as Liam comes. He wants to pull back to see the look on Liam’s face, beautiful probably with parted lips and brows stitching together, but kissing Liam is the only thing that makes him feel like he isn’t about to shatter from the force of arousal coursing through him -

Liam curls his arms around Zayn’s chest, holding him tightly to his own like he wants to stop the tremble that wrecks through Zayn as he peaks, cock dragging against Liam’s belly and coating both of theirs with come. He bites at Liam’s bottom lip, coaxing out another moan from his husband’s lips that seems to pound through Zayn’s system -

“Liam,” Zayn moans, hands slipping against the side of Liam’s head as he peppers kisses to his lips, which push up into a lazy smile. Zayn swore every time feels like the first, but he tells himself he is wrong because every time feels better than the last.

Liam drags his palms up Zayn’s back to rest at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the hair there. “You do this thing,” he starts, voice hoarse but warm. He breathes in for a long moment, like he needs as much oxygen as he can get before he can speak again. “When you look at me, when you touch me and -”

Zayn pulls away some, taking in the bright of Liam’s eyes that match the sweaty red of his cheeks. Liam licks his lips, smiling softly before he continues with a thumb rubbing at Zayn’s skin.

“This thing where you look at me like you are overwhelmed that I am here with you, where you make me think that there isn’t anyone else in this world that can hold as much love as you do, and most of that love is for me.”

Zayn exhales out sharply, his heart not allowing itself to calm because of Liam’s words.

Liam pecks a kiss to his lips. “Just wanted you to see how that felt, and show you that you don’t need to do the same things that I do in order for me to feel just as loved.”

Zayn pushes his forehead against Liam’s, eyes falling shut as he tries to calm down from the way that makes his chest feel like it is going to shatter - in a good way this time, but it is still just as overwhelming.

Liam eases out of him slowly to roll him to the side, so they lay face to face. His fingers brush at Zayn’s hair, his eyes warm and intent on him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Zayn whispers quietly, looking up at him through his eyelashes as he tries to fight off the grin on his lips.

Liam hums, nodding his head.

Zayn chews on his bottom lip, feeling silly because he wants to make a joke like they always do but the words make his throat feel tight, even though he has said them out loud a thousand times. “I’m in love with you, like madly in love with you.”

Liam huffs out a quiet laugh, eyes falling shut as he smothers his lips to Zayn’s mouth for a brief moment.

“See? Luckiest man in the world, I am. And even if you don’t believe that, it still remains true.”

Zayn looks up at him, his lips moving to match the soft smile that Liam wears. “Funny, ‘cause so am I.”

Liam’s cheeks bunch up as his fingers tickle down his cheek, using those small touches to make Zayn’s skin warmer. “Guess that makes us like soulmates or summat.”

Zayn wrinkles his nose as he tries not to laugh but it proves to be physically impossible. “Guess you have to spend the rest your life with me or something.”

Liam’s smile softens as he drags Zayn in closer. “I promise to,” he whispers, his voice no longer playful but just warm and full of love. “And I will promise it every single time you need me to, _jaan_.”

 

**Three Years Later**

The white of the waiting room is blinding, but not nearly as bright as the glow that sticks to Zayn's face, the excitement in his eyes and the way he keeps trying to stop the smile on his face but is unable to. It is adorable, and Liam swears he could never fall in love with Zayn more than he already has, but Liam finds it happening too often for that to be true.

"Nervous?" Liam asks, sliding his thumb against the back of Zayn's hand where their fingers lay tangled in his lap. He is nervous too, wiggling in his seat like the twins do, legs jiggling restlessly - another habit that Maira has picked up on from the constant sitting on his lap.

Zayn shrugs, biting around his smile as he looks up at Liam through his eyelashes and the nerves are evident in the wide of his eyes. Liam wishes their kids were here still, but it had become too late for them to stay up, and he had sent them off with Niall, who promised to spend the night with them. And even though Bashar is old enough to watch them on his own, it sets them on edge when they are by themselves for too long or overnight.

"Me too," Liam says, grinning warmly. The hospital is quieter than he is used to, though every now and then there is a baby crying off in the distance. It seems like an unusually long time to be waiting, but only because every second feels like a decade.

"Did you pick out your name?" Zayn whispers.

Liam nods. He had picked it out months ago when they had been told the due date - the day of their tenth anniversary, which started a few hours ago but they were too wrapped up in the new addition of their family to notice. He had researched names for hours as Zayn slept beside him, jotting them all down and slowly weeding them out one by one until he chose.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper where he had scribbled the name while Zayn had been tending to Mahaad.

"You first?" Liam asks, quirking up a brow.

Zayn grins, taking the paper from him but keeping his eyes on Liam instead of it as he unfolds it. He is nervous really, even though he knows Zayn will love what he chose.

"Hayam," Zayn whispers. _Madly in love -_

Liam's stills, glancing between Zayn and the same name on the paper. "How'd you know?"

Zayn smacks his lips to the corner of his mouth, humming slightly. "I know you, babe."

Liam doubts that is the only reason he knows, but the brightness of Zayn's eyes makes his heart race. This is happening, finally after months of playful arguing about genders and whether or not they should make the office into a nursery, because a crib can't fit into the boys' room.

(Which Liam had responded with building them a bunk bed. One that Bashar claims he hates because now that he is a teenager, he no longer wants to share a room with his baby brother even though Liam has caught him beckoning the boy to curl up into his bed with him more than a few times.)

"What if it is a boy?"

Zayn slides his arm around Liam's shoulder, grinning gently. "What about that gut feeling, Mr. Malik?"

Liam chuckles softly, his heart beating up his sternum no matter how hard he has tried to get it to calm. He knows Zayn's is beating the same way, because soulmates -

“Doesn’t really matter, like, I’m already in love with them, you know?”

Zayn curls his fingers around the back of his neck, bringing him close so he can drag his lips against his. “I know, babe. Born to be a daddy, yeah?”

Liam’s closes his eyes as he knocks their foreheads together. "Born to be a daddy with you."

Zayn rolls his eyes but the happiness in them is hard to hide like always. "We should raise some kids, then."

Liam snorts, folding his palm over Zayn's cheek before -

"Mr. and Mr. Malik?"

They both let out a sharp breath, eyes connecting as Liam feels his heart jump into his throat even more. Nerves coat Zayn's face, making him look so much like Mahaad -

Liam pushes up from his seat, fingers reaching out for Zayn's behind him as he heads over towards the nurse that had called them sat behind the receptionist desk. She points a finger to the hallway, well aware that Liam and Zayn know where to go as they have been nagging her for the past four hours to be let into the delivery room.

Zayn drags his thumb across the back of Liam's hand as they turn the corner, excitement making him press into Liam's back with his chest and urge him forward faster.

He spots the midwife, her eyes gazing down to the bundle in her arms. The walls don't seem so bright anymore, fading away and the only thing he can focus on other than the pudgy cheeks that come into view is Zayn's soft, " _Oh Liam -_ "

Liam takes in the pinkest skin he has ever seen, thick black hair peeking out from the cotton hat and a nose that scrunches as Liam takes them into his arms. The midwife says something that Liam can't hear, too wrapped up in the small thing in his arms and the way Zayn’s sharp inhale seems to match his own.

"Hayam," Zayn whispers in his ear, voice fond and full of something else that Liam has realized over the years that Zayn only uses towards him.

“Hayam,” Liam repeats quietly, turning towards Zayn so their daughter is between them. Zayn’s fingers slide against the brim of her hat so carefully, like he is afraid she might shatter from the breeze of his fingertips. “Beti.”

He stares down at her scrunched up face, her pudgy little nose and red, almost purple lips that are pushed into a pout, trying to catch his breath as he falls in love for the fifth time.

++

“Shh,” Maira whispers, pressing her hand over Mahaad’s lips to muffle the rush of words that come tumbling past his lips as Zayn and Liam shuffle inside. "What if she is sleeping?"

Liam chuckles tiredly before wrapping his arms around the two of them, bending over to pepper kisses to both of their cheeks. They have both grown so tall, though they remain the shortest of their classmates. He lifts them some, making them squirm to get away from his grip.

They stayed at the hospital for awhile, and he had been so excited to introduce the twins and Bashar to their new sister, but he feels exhausted and he the need to wrap his love around them and absorb their own was too hard to ignore.

"Wanna see my sister," Mahaad complains, eyes latched onto Zayn as he places the car seat onto the table in the living room as he struggles against Liam's grip. “Uncle Nialler told me before he left that you were bringing me home my sister, and I want to -”

"Fine," Liam pouts reluctantly. "But give Papa a kiss first."

Mahaad pecks his cheek quickly before he takes off, padding over to Zayn with an excitement radiating off of him.

He pushes on his tip toes, peering over the lip of the edge of the car seat, eyes wide as Zayn pulls the blanket off.

Mahaad gasps in wonder, looking between Zayn and his new sister. Liam warms, feeling the tears prick at his eyelids. He had done so well at keeping them back, only having truly let them go when  "She's beautiful, Baba."

"Lemme see," Maira says, bumping Mahaad over to squeeze in between the two of them. Her eyebrows raise high into her forehead as she reaches in hesitantly to touch Hayam's toes. "She can sleep in my bed, tonight?"

Zayn snorts, undoing the straps. "No, beti. She sleeps with Papa and me for awhile."

"But then her crib goes in my room, right? Papa said."

Liam chuckles softly, coming up behind his husband to rub his palms down his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head like he can ease out the exhaustion that obviously clings to him as well.

"That's right, babe."

Maira grins brightly before she takes off, yelling for Bashar to tell him that they are home despite her telling Mahaad to be quiet earlier.

"Go on and shower," Liam tells him. "Look tired, love."

Liam eases Hayam out of her car seat as Zayn pads off, cooing softly though her eyes are stitched shut. Mahaad looks up at him with wide eyes, filled with the same nerves Liam always feels when they are this little and this fragile.

"Come on beta, wanna hold her?"

Mahaad nibbles on his bottom lip, shrugging jerkily as he pads behind Liam to the couch. He sits on the couch beside him, folding his hands between his legs.

"I won't hurt her?" Mahaad worries as Liam guides her to him. He hesitates before he holds his arms out, curling them in front of himself like Liam had been holding her.

"No," Liam tells him softly, resting Hayam into his arms. "You're her big brother."

Mahaad nibbles on his bottom lip like he is unsure, and those nerves clinging to his features worsen when Liam moves to pull his hands away.

He just stares at her, a look of wonder on his face and it makes Liam’s heart lurch up into his throat again. It reminds him of the first time Bashar had held Mahaad, the way he nuzzled his cheek to Mahaad's forehead and then worried he had upset Liam because Liam had been crying.

"Can I kiss her?"

Liam nods, smiling softly as Mahaad grins before plopping his lips to her forehead.

Hayam's face scrunches up and she wiggles some, making Mahaad look up at Liam in panic.

"Means she likes you," Liam assures him, softly, wanting to brush a thumb against his cheek to ease away the flush that burns away at them, but Mahaad has made it so Liam is holding Hayam over his arms. "Loves you a lot."

"Love you too, Jack Jack," Mahaad whispers, plopping another kiss to her forehead.

++

Zayn shuffles out of the bathroom, limbs heavy and dragging as he makes his way towards the living room. He feels exhausted but satiated, now that they finally have their little one at home, and his family is all together.

He intercepts Bashar as he walks towards his room, curling an arm around his shoulders before he can get a chance to leave. He is nearing closer and closer to Zayn's height, and it makes him anxious thinking about how his boy will be taller than him in a few years.

Because Zayn is learning that a few years can feel like a minute, blink and he will miss it.

"Love you," he murmurs, holding him close. "Happy about your little sister?"

Bashar nods, curling an arm around his back like he understands that Zayn always searches for the comfort he provides. Even if he doesn't feel like he needs to be comforted, he always needs it from his son.

"I reckon she might lose a limb if Maira tries to take her from Mahaad one more time," he chuckles. "Told 'em to leave 'em be while Papa slept."

Zayn folds a hand over his cheek, admiring the soft look on his face that he has learned from his Papa. "My boy. Love you."

Bashar rolls his eyes but nudges into his palm, just like Zayn used to when he was the same age and annoyed by the constant affection his parents showed him, but at the same time craving it. "Yeah, Baba, love you too. Don't wake Papa, yeah? I want to draw."

Zayn nods, letting Bashar go as his chest swells. The hallway is practically covered in his drawings, which continue to improve. He has been teaching Mahaad more, the next Picasso -

He walks into the living room, where the rest of his family is. Mahaad sits at the end of the couch, legs tucked underneath Liam's and fingers scratching at Clark’s head, who sits loyally by his side of the couch. Maira sits on the floor, legs crisscrossed and turned away from the television with her eyes planted on her new little sister, who sleeps on their Papa's chest.

Liam’s eyes are shut, his features relaxed where his head rests against the arm of that old manky couch. His fingers rest across Hayam’s back as she rises and falls from the slow movement of his chest. It tugs at Zayn’s heart, really – and he needs Bash to rush back with his sketchpad so he can have his whole world surrounding him.

Maira pushes up from the floor in excitement when he nears. “She been asleep for awhile, Baba.”

Zayn chuckles quietly, tickling his fingers through her unruly curls. “Babies need to sleep a lot, babe.”

Maira huffs out a sigh, hands going to her hips before she makes her way to sit beside Mahaad, practically shoving him into the side of the couch as she curls up beside him.

Zayn bends over the back of the couch to slide his fingers over the back of Liam’s hand and onto Hayam’s back, feeling the steady expanse of her back as she breathes while he watches the movement of his husbands.

Zayn leans down to brush his lips against Liam’s, watching his brows wrinkle before he whispers, “Happy Anniversary, jaan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song credits: My Heart Belongs To You, Jodeci. I'll Make Love To You, Boys 2 Men. My Body, LSG. Sex Me, R.Kelly, Too Close, Next. :))))). Tell me what you think? Hopefully it wasn't too bad? [tumblr](zrandpa.tumblr.com) if you need it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think? I have drabbles from this series posted on tumblr [here](http://zipplekink.tumblr.com/tagged/HotH) if you are interested in reading more x. Also my [twitter](http://twitter.com/zippIekink) if you need it


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